Altruism makes me go on fire, repeatedly.
Through the inferno I scream
that this was my plan all along.
I eat a peach sorbet and my wife leaves me.
I visit the disappointing novelty garment shop
and I get is this lousy T-shirt.
The multiseed bread plumps up in my petrol tank
and causes the engine to fail; I walk home in the rain,
and when I open my grey-brown umbrella,
a passing pterodactyl mistakes me for portabello mushroom,
swoops.
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