Slick

It picked 

a Hell of a night to rain.

That frog picked 

a Hell of a time to cross.

I picked 

a Hell of a second to swerve.

Your brakes picked 

a Hell of an instant to lock.

This is what they tell you

when the Ride is finally over:

You've learned nothing

--wasted space--

if you haven't absorbed

the theme:

We pick nothing.

We

pick

nothing.

We pick nothing

(but our words).