How and why, where,

so much to do what I need,

time is what, sentences, contracts and

grounds, sorry’s are causes, rooted in

irregularity–  talk to a mirror, there’s a 

crack in the facts, don’t have the material to

heal or cap.. Now I’m just bobbing my head to

traffic sounds… Oh, the walls shake, wash my hands

in that water, wasn’t supposed to, a low new, 

truer than a blaring blue hue.. Hire a lawyer and sue,

into the front page imbued.