On the way home from the bank I got a wild hair up my ass
and saw two girls fuck in an ice cream truck parked
outside my apartment.

You want something poetic out of it?
There's nothing to plumb.
No land here.
Like drilling oil in New Hampshire.
Drilling oil from a wicker hamper.
Drilling oil from an Applebee's sampler.
It was something that happened one day and in the future,
things like this will be scarce and I'll sleep better at night.
It's just something that happens.
Like the Wright brothers falling to their death.
Like Breece with a shotgun.
Or Brit Pop with a swaying rope.

It's very rare that a baby is so bad that it is sentenced to be hanged.
But when it happens, what a sight.
To see the threshold for which true evil sinks away.
Poor advice.