The rain pours down
And the wipers on the car
Go pat pat pat
And the boy in the back
Seat goes pick pick pick
And the hairs from his
Chinny chin chin
Pepper his white polo sweater
Like so many tiny sins
The rain pours down
And the line on the cell phone
Goes click click click
And the wife in the front seat
Says shit shit shit
And all she hears coming from
The other end is
I’m sorry
There’s no room at the asylum