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Kate Rancid

My Affliction

My Affliction

I can't stop writing poems, no I really really can't.
I write them when you're with me and I write them when you aren't.
I write them in the kitchen, in the bath and on the loo,
These poems just keep coming and I don't know what to do.

I try to do some work but in my head I just hear rhyme,
It makes me write a load of Shite, it happens all the time.
I do try to ignore it but it just keeps getting worse,
This stupid fucking bastard wanking sodding shitting verse.

I'd cut off all my fingers if I thought that that would work,
But deep inside my brain I know the poetry would lurk,
And wanting for an outlet it would spew out of my gob,
And that would never do 'cause I could never get a job.

I'll go for a lobotomy! Could that provide a cure?
And then perhaps my poetry will be much more demure.
I won't find that I need to say 'Big Arse' or 'Tits' or 'bum'.
I'll just sit in my chair and let the dribble run and run.

No I can't stop writing poems and I don't know what to do,
I started writing this one in the middle of a poo,
And I tried to stop it coming but it came out all the same,
And so did the poem, much to my shame.

I can't stop writing poems, they just fall out of my brain,
I'm getting rather sick of it. It's driving me insane.
I'd much rather be normal, like a lawyer or a banker.
Oh wow! I think I'm cured! I can't think of anything to rhyme with 'banker'.

Kate Rancid (b. 1973)