This poem owes something to the parable of the three wise monkeys
(see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil).

"Outside the street's on fire in a real death waltz
between what's flesh and what's fantasy.
And the poets down here don't write nothin' at all.
They just stand back and let it all be.
And in the quick of a knife,
they reach for their moment and try to make an honest stand.
But they wind up wounded, and not even dead
tonight in Jungleland."
Bruce Springsteen (Jungleland)