Everyone
  is born pure,
    I think.
Imagine red-hot
  ****** metal.

Clay is given to two
  people. Two.

Sometimes one person leaves.
  The metal is too hot.

  Hey, this isn't for me,
he or she says.
  Shame if it's the mom.
Push it out. Check out
  of the heartbreak motel.

  But it's all the same,
I suppose:
  Mom or dad.

Red-hot ****** metal,
  sitting at the playground.
Teacher says,
  Play with the other kids.
Teacher says,
  Does the world seem big
    because it's so scary?
Teacher says,
  What is your nature?
Teacher says,
  Play with the other kids--
    think of it as
      networking.

  Time to graduate.

You ******* queer,
  said the news.
Yeah you,
  said the news.
Look over here,
  said the news.
Bombs, ****, *******,
*******, *****, spics,
******, school shootings,
drugs, suicide, famine,
STDs, rap music, Jews,
Obama, Putin, North Korea,
Ferguson,
  said the news.
By the way,
  said the news.
Have you seen
  Miley Cyrus'
nip slip,
  said the news.

Graduation night.

  Rumbling 'round the
warm, bath water
  city lights.
Her hand in his.
  She looks over,
What is your nature?

I had a teacher
  ask me that,
he said.

They ****** underneath
  an apple tree.

This is what the rain is for.
  What?
This is what the rain is for.
  To get us wet?
No, *******.
  Because I already
    had you wet.
Ha-ha. Very funny...
    No, it's for washing away
      memories of ***
        under a tree.

Birth.

Two people. Two.
  Let's name him,
she said.
  Let's fail him,
he said.