oj waiting to see a lawyer

gonna rain? he asks himself

naw he says to himself

though seeing the new moon intermittently covered 

with ominous gray clouds, he wonders

lookee lous with notepads and pens arrive in hordes

his fingers itch to sign, but he's cordoned off

hope ignites and dies like a struck match

travel points vanish into mirages

thick dossiers arrive in the hands of

broadly smiling counsels

he chooses his hero

adjusts darkest dark glasses

and over a couple beers

at a local hangout

he tells him i didn't do it