For four or five days I walked around and lingered by the train, drinking wine and squeezing ointment out of orangutan thighs. Snowballs whizzed past my face in the Pacific Islands as Brahm’s Second parked in the space reserved for the manager. She wore purple lipstick in jail and blended in with the contour of the wall. Five bucks worth of jizz bet on the eight horse while I bargained with my favorite executioner. Jacob turned to me and said Overalls burn my scalp, let’s get out of here. The old man’s antics offended no one, especially the factory men threading needles and complaining of false chalk wounds. Perfect legs opened the gate and threw me down the tunnel. A dark blue elbow boiled an egg by the window, frowning with pulpy sadness. Take me anywhere, anywhere, I don’t care.