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It is 8:15am

It is that time, get lost.
The clock is off and off and off.

Bog off. I slap the noise, retreat.
Hand in sleep, topples the cup.

F**k off F**k off F**k off.
At least I think I'm up.

The milk is off, F**k off.
Trip the cat, time to off.

On clothes from day before.
On scraps of days gone by.
One day my hair will live -
A man with self once more.

Let's start. Say:
Bye.

- Simon Huggins, 12th May 2002