Why Did This Britney Shakespears Lookalike Tiptoe Past the Medicine Cabinet Last Night?

written on the pavement:

'I know who you are!'

I just saw you and I see you now

and I'll be seeing you again and again

and again.

I see your soul (dark)

and I see your body (some-
body said some
thing about boiling
boobs)

and I see your mind
(empty).

I know what you feel, I know

what you think, I know what you're doing

right now (reading these lines

and thinking: 'This is Bullshit! Shitting Bull

Shit!')

You're still not convinced, but

let me ask you this: why did you tip-toe

past the medicine cabinet last night?

Didn't want to wake the Sleeping Tablets, did you?

And oh my dear, I can hear

you thinking (but not too loud):

'What a coincidence! I thought about

that silly dumb blonde joke because

I needed some sleeping tablets

and...'

Me Big Brother, you my Little Sissy.

I live with you, I live within you

'cause you are this blonde doll of me

and touch me, touch me and you will be

no longer lost and alone and there will be

no fuckin' anymore.

Okay, you don't feel like foolin' around,

these days, you have catched a cold
or maybe a swine
flu and your accountant
has told you some facts
about taxes

and now you're thinking (but not too fast)

he apparently has not only dogged me on the street,

he apparently not only guesses what I do and what I don't,

he also opened my post

and sealed it again

and as we say it down here:

'Private debt, thick bump!' (*)

And: 'Who the fuck is this Marlowe guy?'

you are thinking right now (but rather slow).

You'll soon get to know me,

my little sum

of a bitch.

Until then
and as always,

Yours Truly

C.M. II

PS: There are not even no certainties anymore in the fragile existence of the world wide web writer. Why are your comments no longer devastating and razor-sharp? Why are not you dancing anymore on the grave of the defenseless author?

(*) You might have to think about that. (**)
(**) But not too deep, of course.