Currently Hybrid Theory By Linkin Park cure for the itch. see related

it's a fucking time box
set with rustic plastic padlocks
that break and bend like
chains of toothpick
and you don't know what
you're complaining about.

in the big whatever
you've got what ever and ever
and you never talk about the elephant.
whatever to the loss
of the argument
and the hiding hole of your rejected slingshot
swinging both ways with no appropriate target.
you may never remember
that you're not fine,
the greatest of one-word lies,
you say whatever like it's
imprinted there forever,
for godssakes
life is not a giant gothic battle
of wits.
and i clap and stomp and get loud
i snap back the receiver
and say you're
bullshitting through your ears.