Repetition

Yes, again.
One gain
repeated.
Concatenated.
These little lines
are fickle spines
running through 
the vertebrate
like a road runs
through the dashing
yellow dashes.
Borrowed limes?
Citric crickets?
Have these categories
been named and 
established?
Fifty years hence.
Beyond the today
into the yester
morrow.
Sorrowful. Sorry,
baleful. Doles of
bowls of hay.
Barnyard missions
sans vision.
Farmer town,
no longer
ready for sheep.
Herds of more
and more and
multiply.
Divide? 
It's a bath 
problem.
A shower
quandary. 
Water and 
pressure and 
aquifer ducts,
taped to my eyes
to cover me from
the claim that I 
saw it coming. Yet,
again.