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.