As I found myself on city streets, who did I meet
It was me, and we were obscene; know what I mean.
Obstreperous to say the least,
Like fizzy fountains on folded yeast.
Like phone calls made to state police.
Did you tell me l, did you lead?
Couldn’t have, I am that steed.
When nothing matters, and walls they bleed.
And paragraphs can’t pray, in deed,
When spills the darkness brightest seed.
Behold, there I am, as once we were.
Some truth, here it goes like I am Sam.