Blackened windows:
We know we don’t know
Facts are a marketplace,
A rendezvous to encapsulate sleights of tongue.  

I’ll have sherry Pepsi. And just the sardines.  
I’m sorry this happened. I was going to stay  
from the moment we set the stage squinting within representation,  
getting some miles in, taking them on board, putting them in mind  
of a menial photorealism.