Hyperbolic junk
went clunk in the function trunk.
I'll go be a monk.

Edgar Allen Poe and I had been out drinking and partaking in various substances all night long... we were in his Porsche which is not a good car to go out hogging in. So, he went home (not too far away) to get his Mustang. We were taking these real porkers back to Ed's country cottage and we'd been smoking some opium and who knows what else... Edgar tries to roll a joint while driving and he loses control of the car, breaks through a barb-wire fence and we're speeding through this field at I'd guess 70 mph. And we're heading for this huge fucking oak, and I thought we were all goners, but then I yelled, "Poe! A tree!"