Unmanned and flailing wildly about—
Its nozzle opened all the way
And whipping with such force
As might kill the cognitive miser
If it were to strike him in the head—
The fire hose does its thing—
As is natural when well-supplied,
Opened, and unrestrained—
There being nothing in the hall unlikely
To suffer its torrent in time.
It breaks the fragile—
Topples the lightweight—
Soaks the porous—
As if on a mission to randomly
Examine every item until it has found
The few worthy ones that are
Invulnerable to its testing.
