Ripped trousers
How does the universe know I need a kicking?
Flicking through the directory, finger lands direct on me.
Circle the name, highlight, underline.
It's time he got moved down a peg or two.
Too few are the times I've been moved up.
I've had enough of times being tough.
Tough luck.
Who gives a fuck?
Chuck it in the fuck-it bucket.
Never runeth over, I have a bone dry cup.
But being on the bottom peg, I can still look up.
