A Niblory Blander

Because the street of the boy and the bar of the window from a chair
Well, we are next while me, do the fullers to people in the bell's window
Fell up the light
You will, might have to make the girls and mean crazy
How remember we wanted her first purple in a honsely
I an other driven to take of somebody again though
Your good crossroads, you didn’t i don’t know
His love your lady sing tonight?
And began a dead your voice
Only all know your mender down
His seemed to the first to wear
Well, you’ve now said, “More somebody can have me to come and standby
And the desert like they take me come to no fairy,
He’s I’ve have told your kid-come to love you got to the door
Yes, of the Park in his sun
You’ve had taken the lover of the still look and sounds
But I’m no trick and love your jack to my books;
Your side down, then he’s a good down somebody
On their way throw from the blond class and I’ve been home
And you got it out of the way of the good
Hope with the room that would leave the driver red
He hasn’t been soon your bill in a cause
But the contradiction was if you know who was quiet, me
And he will get to be around
I said, “you’re nothing on the slows of suck to the pretend
You’ve known the woman and there’s all the lowly boy back
But I’m lookin’ across my gown with a pants off, the street
And look out you know, and he’s in bed in a street John in the refuck?
His crawling is that’s behind it will be her there
But they warn all that come to your room
And the backs are nothing, up and follows
Something we’re bleeding everything believe
Pressin’ the moment to your heart.
You’re too strange through your head
And you never see the old duster of the cooed and then I’d have a pick and had any change down
Isn’t great that you know there’s turned a man,
And they’re nothing as comes make the poem
Where the day, and this crazy
On the cigarette but he rains to me
I’ve come to the breach in the roads
Oh all them really can’t say about him, but your love is the next face is there, go to look
I said, “I’m drunk dirty but want something back?”
Said, “you pass off your street, his man was to be down.”

more times

  he will know when you’re in a room. 

        She didn’t get to the loved floor

        something closed for come in them, even in the window
  and then first the sun prevents spire of the edged piece
  and he then laves sense—
  what’s dead big wed to
  see the friends of the head
  and the church break in the rooms, standing personnel

        at his trains and the bone
  and what my hand is not will know
  but the day-legs remain stroke
  at they listen, dreaming
  like the celling— 

        she’s a little protest really,
  on more down and getting in the new
  disdained sitting
  on the grabber of fair
  like typeless
  and without the water on the card
  too
  a pugly like the
  face.
    I get it over the nooner
  worked out of them
  then some member
  but which shit the feet
  mouth and the cars of bad joke
  and the dead
  she's looking at back and wants
  up out of left in their course
  up and we can watch
  up in the way too the purple
  then it’s the sound
  sanded
  glass like a horse, something they have, nothing into the
  money
  with the dirt kind:
  “the hard was with the only
  are many
  poems of distrust and
  one that’s they are flowers
  like dirting minute and
  going in the
  other will face just been the curtrank when that
  and got about had, somebody would got him
  and they have the Flaw-way. When the light
  and shipped him something,
  it flying to do the trees there finally this for
  something
  who had her words,
  under the day this next eyes
  and did more water
  of me,
  in the fine to centling
  and continued out,
  that you couldn’t know I’ve laughed a
  cigarette to
  dick of the banks
  shake his gail!
  “sun!”
  “as I was a with the street, yeah,”
  “he’s seeming to
  the call starts of love much,” I say.
  “they don’t
  be been designed.”
  He said.
  “and made,” he took him.
  “when you can’t look whose wind out the light
  which miss off the newsstand, you’ve got to keep ready for a
  sun
  

I didn’t love the sun at 3:30

  red the boy sun
  could see to love
  and got to bust
  in the light;
  she begins,
  and the cry, days in the thought;
  when the
  place,
   when I didn’t begin to see the
  dark
  3 my head
  and we’ll get a ginger
  rocked to the man,
  and I were good around it
  that great with the people for
  some of the years
  sitting to wait a pear
  and probing on the
  phone.
  they’re working to see one of drunk and
  but I said,
  “who are in the Garden" it’s that
  back the sure and then you were a color
  in the sky
  supporting drinking and
  begins.
    a has been.
  my broken to the poverpist
  was she drink of dog and then
  as he had like a bright back of her
  scrawl.
    and I know what they know, we really are
  printable day and next broker
  so they sure what the
  fly is
  good gone.
  it’s nothing and mean in the
  bed
  those other hours
  and it’s the window
  in a while quiet is gone
  the job boy
  in the skies
  too small to get
  the cask

        who seems with their
  feet
  desounds.
   but I recoiled the gripper
  and I am
  strange
  as as restricted
  and they said,
  my looks now
  and I would hear her in dreams, and the
  touch.
  but there is such.
  there are decades in the dark, next way drink
  they should be
  now you get to the past
  all the more
  like so inside their love
  and from some not small stable out came the
  worker.

child along me out from the stamp break are drunk

child along me out from the stamp break are drunk
     and not been gone off the might
     in them is varied.
     else for even dead
     step and they’re like found
     again.
       they get up as it’s better was with the cobsery
     just poems
     and the broken around pour and the from here she sits and
     best something you won’t
     you'll still be
     burdened
     and come alive.
       I am so the conspalth
     his poems
     out on the frozen of a before the cramped
     pound,
     and I’m in the poems
     and the high windows
     all the cigarettes.
       sometimes the old reach and everything's
     love.

"the time"

   and for the sands, a face
  some more really
  smiles down
  and the bangers would go to the hours
  from the smoke;
    they would get to mine his life,
  but like the celephane in the nature will be
  yet to
  have the cars and
  woman on the man,
  went to me, rains are there.
    it was say
  too fame?
    then you felt its inventory would think
  what the
  weak had said.

“The Went Far Punch-Here Dream They're in.”

        You have been the same and too
 they live, many before
 you have no finally get out you
 as he can’t wait in their new serious number that
 caused and prospected to my letter
 compaction and
 when they’re gonna be
 but I put a starter in his
 bed
 looking to the dreams.
 I think go to me here as if the lot,

        good are the crazy
 high around nothing out of the blue
 and I was their real game
 minute could tree a plant drive
 as it’s all the
 charm
 up and music and
 there is an almost
 from the jack up screams
 but I’m a writer and drinking and says
 and really warms
 mind
 dirty are dead
 soured me more from the
 poems,
 land per-said
 reading out.
  she was because there is the morning,
 I'm really not
 poems to the pass is
 famous to him.
 I don’t know you got made at her kisses
 is about the doors of the deliverer
 the piece.
 your hair. I’d get my pill
 and write this and
 of his choirs and the booked man of the priest of
 blocks.
  I know to have the juggler for all stopped
 through stooping in
 the leaves and die
 and I’m stuck, the last of the head of
 them
 before then the morning who was, feels
 and is the one for him.
   I read the sheets because
  I were a name too
 the more love
  the keys
  in the edge, drawing
  to be there
  and straight and
  walked out of the way
  sleeping
  the gentle have in the sun.
  and my wife the best
  there was, not the printer
  sense.
   I had a girl in my world
  behind
  let the same right in the poems
  and you all moved the more
  and it was just something about it
  did fair
  magical
  and there
  and over there is that it passed
  in his sleep,
  I’m not all there trying
  they say,
  “you never got resounds back?”
  I thought when the instrument

        and was reached
  there was the poor cars
  went to know a dog
  and I got part fines around of a more
  the rude come make something for the crushing
  like a letter
  they have got into the
  day.
  we can’t see the shoes and good
  over
  the noters,
  the arm was last for love him
  is a forgotten
  in my piece
  strange of the garden and that four
  through the first,
  it wouldn’t got to me
  plays
  and I only say
  the liar said, “I can’t look,
  pull it down.”
  “I’ve not seen a day and your hair
  of mine more!”
  “you don’t really in a more in the pumpkin of your
  world on my time and
  should the sun
  but it’s writer,” she said,
  ““you can’t laugh with me?”
  “you would be with your talk of the great of my spill, boys?”
  “yeah,” I tell the bottle of the grass or with a
  massed of eager who the prodding
  and he watched looking at the sound.
  I was not passing him. “you got to the bottle.”
  “you saw the girls are sitting me down,” I say.
  “listen, sometimes forget them and constrain, I was a lawn up
  and I leave the frame, you don’t know all they cook;
  and I love to die,
  put the good song.
    I was everything, we forget steps and
  years.
  then everybody was paid off
  when I’m sad, and walked with them
  in the fight as the book, in the leaving and
  panting to her different
  and he just sees a real move composed in the girl and she couldn’t
  think.
  I say, “Knocking.”
  “I used your keys,” I leave them all
  the backless of fairing and the room and then
  they’ve had serving his head.
   they want to make my people
  in the end asked.
  “he make you, can’t like you.”
  I say, “where you let’s couldn’t thought but that just was a bed,
  seemed like waiters and the world and all the track was
  soft.
  then finally everything is much big for only got
  to get something back,” he’s got on the formulation last
  and me of my barging in the
  machine.

130 a.m. A Morning Poem Sullo

     They went to the sun the lady off in the back
     and I can’t know I’ve been stalling dropped grades.
     Here was like the window. He is to get off the body love,
     because you got to be ready, put like a soul in a holy white,
     I leave it too do not go and I know, came really near a bed of my days.
     Our window of yours, big was the door closed for the sheets of the coffee go on the lover
     smoked in the drink to my dancers of the toppled, at the grieve
     put my hands of the father door?
     They walked to the unbeer of him here—she said, “Parking Like my driver.”
     “you’re been through the white?”
     “He could have no crumb in the way?”
     “But I said,” she said, “I’ve got to me that’s stuck the one for your minds are you just will going to
     for the party back and we said.”
     “That’s here,” she got to her
     today.
     then there’s been true
     and they’ll be just would be blood and
     during, the tears at the price of a cheap boy.

drinks of Getoroa and Doom Boy

     And die now, she said
     they cuffed. they ate the Car Phone, my half it
     and you
     dull up out beautiful who's strength is the port,
     placing deal into the world?
     nan said, "why you want to make that,"
     he don't got a say
     it was fisted, the windows and I against the siding
     poor and talks the second.

I remember now

I remember now
 looking by much, not of the crush and
 the bad and
 and wine with the precious of her bag
 with purple in the drain
 looking through and water under
 in the heart
 and Constic and then
 but you want to be in the head
 and then it's not one on the world going there
 as it nears
 a wind has been the movies of a passer
 and those minds then flutter
 and the broken brought no bottle.
 when they can like how something and he had were their radio
 from the bowling looking out of my small world, walk and well,
 and they find her. men got the forth,
 dead loves going in the hand
 and the bag fires, the head so she pushed the crowd
 love against it me have deeply,
 and wouldn't not the turbines are for hands to
 hers began,
 living past the shade,
 sure to leave him:
 then's been away over the window did compare
 in the whore!
 and she was the gentle joy, me,
 playing next of all.

"love and coffee"

it's the windows of hers ., from the
     Smoke house,
     poems of the loud
     when the day he never met
     through
      it's love
     realize
     and coffee
     in my mind.
       the like talk
     and well,
     but I’ll never get down the money.
       a darkness, white guys
     to get it upon the
     brain.

my house

my house are some of who, his head
 resides in the desert of the bright
 best drunk,
 out in a boy
 and I drove the bed, more things
 like the showers
 and left. she said
 the long arms and our last are next faced.
 and all who streams him to each clob:
 a ready day and the while of studied men
 she was a bone in the controls, dead
 and are my poor in their rooms
 and when the buddist chain
 and something by a counter time of my gown
 whorring were sights like all of the part,
 all the spicing then, in the high
 something sight
 and I have been crazy, then back
 and the curl turn their soundly fair stash,
 park in the way.
 I would be known without a sign like the money;
 we’re a room come off a fight,
 and you have been the feeling at me from the fires
 are in the fuck of his back to this piece.
 who, yes, worry about that she's great
 around of his wait;
 and I found the world, gives,
 seeming of the coming poems
 and there's more good than cheer in Men
 the man there's that each in tree
 my how the dead of the street
 were even that dies,
 and maybe we are nothing out there!

A Sunafor’s Centable Long Ring Time

  	the world remembers the books
  	the tracks to hearts into one too
  	we're bad on the drinking.
   	I’ll have and they believe my
  	one for the black
 	the mountain.
 	and you’ve toiled me now
 	oh the windows wouldn’t like the
  	keys and you way to be long—
 	and my close and feeling too was into you
 	but all the little faces
 	that he’s met
  	and so: everything.
 	the long have next everything
 	aiding a room with
 	all they will be, always
 	ready:
 	and everywhere’s 3 of
  	one in the failure the change was to
  	distill
  	watch my friend up the right times
  	but I can’t think. I look in the
  	chair like this even horizon finally
  	or bitter and the time then they
  	fell by race,
 	we drive people began,
 	she had turning in the corners of them as
        everything in the white of my eyes of the best the
   	thoughts are
   	silent.
 	and I can’t ever know he was gone.
   	when you know I’m the light of the soul
  	and even I’ve been
 	running like that,
   	for him.
  	she’s a song
  	or a head
 	where I was sinking, moved and something back
 	in the red out of
 	spill,
 	but then she was him
 	when the years
 	are gone, the counting bus
 	the men with the sitting that the sun
 	but the little people I knew I think
 	and cared
 	me:
 	the fleeks and there was a
 	big, still are a black suck
 	and the cats she seems,
 	and numbers country, the gentle beautiful
 	and clear sounds
 	the way of her
 	praises in the life;
 	you know they can walk up through the doorway into
	sorrow.
  	I’ve got been again
 	looter of seems	have no good and crowd your
 	many and then it?
 	there’s turn into the opera from the sky
 	down his brush
 	and I had something terse
 	for how couldn’t be even
 	out of bashing out on the came and I do
 	we sang
 	and he seemed in the cold and
 	was but the fleeting morning
   	poems
 	and no sap-hand in the right
 	housed should come looking about the books
        they have the looking off a except play
    	and I don’t anything at see a wants
 	as the cadges
 	people after
 	3 a.m.
 	there is all always just look
 	make the sense
 	of almost all here at the beautiful of my aggression
 	and that was the shill of pants
 	where the battles are
 	did it.
 	she’s all, was the
 	spill upon a girl to me that but watched
 	without a slide word.
 	it’s nothing were couldn’t say
 	no
 	bush so we worked his hope up
 	and to the breaks work about the food
 	in public.
  	then they were pinking out
 	and once the unwoman
 	and the tables in the dreams is me
 	on the more survivals
 	and the floor the more and hold
 	where it was dreams.
  	they look in the highs
 	into the poles.
 	and I have light and while it’s dirty, I knew
 	the leaves
 	something to see
 	her
 	then from my place
 	and they would be the feet.
  	then out, they won’t
 	forget to make the time
 	and I must but
 	my passes
 	and painting about not of
 	rain.

let a top

     life
      with unlife; I too was a girl so
     young.
     my horse, walks, they turn 
     contently
     and in
     it talks more with 40.
     I profess around while nightful
     with the
     gold, pours this
     guy.

the love sound-thought

      the boys stopped up
     our beer.
      the open burning for the finished
     like the pass
     the worst was
     some ramble of dead
     and the sight and be into
     the night got on the walker
     you’re back
     of her
     but I looked about them,
     between the sight
     that if there’s job.
     “he’s been long the good", and turned to me and that’s got be it
     looking at the bird.
     I could see for the room of your mirrors,
     for the cross way
     and there’s had a starked and he's drunk
     out.
     and I feel nothing in the hand
     and I can’t can’t talk to me, to my head
     and for my predecessor
     but the one
     loves
     from our soft
     do they reside and
     of far down the
     sorrow
     drinking to be unclean
     but I was a song, flashes of the face and soar
     for my mother
     and the bollegged, the kind
     and he was now
     they should march the purple for a sight
     carry.
     and my kinds in the halls
     and they’re got me free, seemed the
     good boys
     have been there
     in her asleep
     or
     men.
     and she took the scream with her
     she was a break of the
     way,
     in spain and running around here
     when I went to the back of her home
     have been used to plug in  more
     movies in the house.

I am here father

 I am here father up you more in you but I can have
 inside, in my head
 and four unknew me
 the first sure were friends there
 and your break,
 when my arm and daughter is, the christer
 cared and they decide
 the whores and you don’t let me
 to be the sect of never
 fine, then it’s going to be the god we don’t say
 and somewhere the mourning boys
 unto something too she began in the birds
 ready a pitting of a burn
 there she's going and the men
 and stranger quarter,
 she got on him to the promises coming at the legs
 like up the same beautiful:
 all the crunk in red,
 and I have been things, standing and blue
 and fucked again
 she said, they should be the part I began
 and this could put off hours and there
 but over the cried beer
 and the starmaids dropped cold looks on the street
 more they climb, dogs from the shocks
 and looking out of the beer was the body
 their back to the sky
 she thinks all which was the way of the fries
 and the blasting things that I do
 and he considered the time
 and was gone.

    

still I sure where he had a grock

  to refit
  without
  reading into the
  sixties and
    no terries, those cars
  for parts, and I repowed the child?
  and your god through a mirable
  that fell away from my eyes.
  there was that, the girl pointing, reached gentle
  nothing upon
  had not one to come
  and there are not tears,
  nothing bounds gave a
  fuck, you know you gave the dogs
  their remake.

the campers

     I am more dirty than bird.
     like
     watched
     your girl
     just don’t come my lunch,
     they worked with the stranger
     and the jaw way against the face
     and the mirrors
     his horse to a
     next pay,
     the clean garage
     and known the new marching there
     with his leave?
     and you know it’s kind in the green
     bottle of a fist
     that you're ready knock
     there on my door
     and the man sweet of the bring
     and there is in the
     hard,
     from the licentious or
     beautiful.
     the sea has hardened in the suck of night
     everybody to do stuff
     bored as them, the
     date,
     and I’'m not, don'’t come to like people that I
     been to, promises in the
     window and slight have
     some drinking times
     everyone warmed
     in the dark and
     getting
     fools for the very
     price leaves with the
     ration
     with the trees,
     like not down and from him go into all
     she left and the way.
     and even just it  in.
     if
     “they’'ve never known
     then I won’'t mention it now?”
     “what’s to get me?”
     now he seen the last the scent row of the
     iffy.
     I think who they turn on is
     wisely and with
     no green people and donations
     and left the looks, dead the
     other said, “that’s found, I turned and dropped my colds to two great cats
     but  its order thought about
     that later.

just shade for your god again

 
as she had somebody, full, the spares would never go, 
 but I can’t think
 and most it seems,
 that it’s all all that, just shade - for your god again,
 love and the finds of her's mounted;
 it was that high, the affair
 inchery and strangling
 which it was, eyes can be their bout,
 love rained on his window before,
 he said.

you’ve got to...

[This is an example of text output a very low temperature, i.e. less experimental. The neural net, at this setting, is generating what it considers safe and correct text.  In this training cycle, it seems to have learned the call and response method of dialogue is pervasive in the poetry used to train it. It seems to be cycling through it's learned words to fill out the structure]

        “you’ve got to me?”
  “yes,” I had a singer crazy.
  “you’re got into the door?”
  “you’ve got to see you.”
  “When you’re gonna get the last but you’ve got to the beer?”
  “and we’ve got a face.”
  “I’m really love you don’t know.”
  “he’s got to get my life?”
  “I’m all the light,” he’s all here.
  “you’re got to me out of the more?”
  “I’m something without the books?”
  “you’re the birds in the world?”
  “yes,” I said, “he’s just got a sun
  and you’re going and says,” I said.
  “I’ve got a bird and you’re gonna do it.”
  “I’m going to see the room of the door,” I said.
  “you’re going to see me in the more comes,” I said,
  “I’m something to be a said.”
  “you know you’re got to be the back,” I said,
  “you’ve know your crowd.”
  “he’s got to him out.”
  “you’re gonna want in the car and
  you’re going out.”
  “you’re like a green sun.”
  “you’re going to the bark.”
  “I’m gone,” I was just been
  here.
  “he’s gone to can’t know?”
  “yes,” I say, “you’re ready?”
  “you’re got to me?”
  “I’m sucked the bed of the pick and sun?”
  “you’re going to be a buy of the from your face.”
  “I’m going to see you?”
  “you’re gonna do me.”
  “you’ve got a propers,” he said,
  “you’ve got to go and good,” I said,
  “you got up over and you’re going to do your car?”
  “you’re not the street?”
  “Hey,” I have the lovers of the
  great.
  “hey,” I said, “you’re going to see the sound and
  but you’re going out off?”
  “I’ve got to go in the course.”
  “I’m going to be been sometimes you’re gonna be about the
  just could be when you’ve got to come your car
  and you’re gone to have left your poems and
  for your carly have all the body and she’s going out of the
  concrice.”
  “I’m sucked and I’ve got a car?”
  “what’s the hands,” I’m going to the streets
  in the room and they were a
  chair.
  “you’ve got to the poems,” he said,
  “you’re going to get a world?”
  “I’m going to come upon the pigor,”
  “you’re got me to look out?”
  “yes,” I said, “I’m just seemed the poems of the light.”
  “when I’m not the green door.”
  “you can’t know what’s a grave of my broken with your life?”
  “you’re come out.”
  “What’s a poems,” she said.
  “you’re gonna do?”
  “you’re come out of the world,”
  “let’s going to be believe me one of the sun…”
  “when you’re gone.”
  “he’s got up the love!”

when a thought is fined

sometimes I have had got a cart and them, for the
        window
        when a thought is fined,
        like on the disdain for the people more
        because they went too far for love
        with me down to
        say
        and after,
        about the mouth dresses
        like baoton, mean through the road worsening I
        went
        up and out
        drinking full
        for it to come to a
        stop.
        she can though and it,
        it’s starting in the plane

A Poem Live Paint Brown Story Christ

[A high temperature generation, which means more experimental]

Lovin' on the stacker, he gave a slumber propwise for the girls left there
Who was should be not now and glow love off her salmer
But I went against the bar
They've not just still be seemed
That the back and the fuck was seen, a shade on
But I crumpled with my people
When the other soon for the ball and then standing the little
And the closed spoke with long man down
They're to know the last of the broken and they sput all the day
There's the sky poems cryin' through the door
In the covers and a scopties of the course of the beer for them
And I'm all, I'm mind
What the cold means but
She's a grand a day in the centuries
Then they have might be to the sand
Then I'm the good spagrim people
Something of the sure
I'm still nothing to the way and she said,
Slays, the little night
Last with a screen, there's love

The Bed of His Nongers

The cheek of the old understood body and every imperade
You want out and I sit
I'm ready and all, I can't make the story
When you mean to form the air of stars
Well, I've come like a lovely sunday
But then you turn to do to fuck
And come out and came to the god's from her feet
When he had all, you will be some unwindow
And you know why, no window of a frog in the crowd
You're moving out in the sand, don't
And it's an old mind, is how I've know she's the killer
About the shoes and no movie, the scream
They're gonna could be care and he was a day
And you think the straight you've carved into the fours, God, I know the door rollin' for you
And you have been sorry, no
But there it was and running to someone, a man
The church in your houses he's all they'd go to
And you're far off the street down by one on the bed
When you like to only stay with me
When it's a show, you're no train
Might be there's flowers, no blood was to be expected
Some thing the birds have left you leave for them
The man from your hole that way leaves, powerful
He's down for the shacklin' mean you been
You're going to want to go to beds of the great, still
To do it you remember it was a slime,
And I face them myself all they'll be any other
And all your girls divinely in sight of the road finally
I'd want out, you want my man it seems
And he's gone into a life and I've got to come seaward
We see my refair like the sexy one. she said, “Can they be more room but it's the wicked who leave”
I know it's not what seems to be so close
And Jesus anyway it's a job
She's locked their window, the corners you find
For missed the not pretty where they're lurkin'
The way: it's a shoot??
But what you're rusting the can dog of your bar for the cough
The Girls and I went to, like the boarding
Love like a window was
Oh and now her for stroogs
Oh, it had to start happy with good gobeen
Time you guys of who go fall and we'll see

LOVE, LAME LOVES

“What’s a death, trouble’s coming,” I said, “she’s gonna go on, please
        it was deceased.”
        “I’ll go?”
        “I’ve been bad!”
        “I’ve left your mind.”
        “I’m still stopped in your place, poems,” she took them
        and he was going to a door
        and I would see the morning again.

bored-school break through

Not lay the sorry life and she looked at me as I grabbed it out;
     pants, a sea shore, it was this again, sitting with his deficiencies
     And bored-school break through, what in some dirty feet with their duffer back,
     And her edition sees the writer with your dark
       laughing, that the misleading, leaves
     And for a man from the bluing
     That saving for them something over
      He stuck to my longing proportion!

The Light Main Rose Came Morning Loss

       The Light Main Rose Came Morning Loss

And the Ince hang in the night, the long of proper face

The lighting on distance black outside

She was his cigarette

I got your body beer here and empty comes of look in the more

You’re gonna like the rock, they be bringing a cold

And keep the story’s before like the bright

Well, what’s out a hand is have to do the orderin’

I’m not all, they’ll know the doors

Well, the long of gooding with the like back

Well, I’ve got to run all the dream down

Well, something over there’s continue

I know my might as something to write, is a world ball

So I’ll forget where I walked

When I know I say out of the mouth

Where she’s my room for string with the red blood

Well, I’m the door and got crossed

The high in the feet mark the drunk, took

The phone she said and it’s to feel out and you’ve moved a man working in chance

And I’m meant where some body slakes it for them

      and you want to have to look to my friends

I want to climb South

           
        Yet I touched her in the pit. That name 
        almost a dead crowd plays the rain and piss 
        of this earth. 
        she worked 
        in the sky.
        I had to make her since I was old 
        she works him as
        I watch her in 1952 
        here the air was simply roofs of stone and parlors of a bock 
        and a hotel in the night wind is like the gods at the age of 55,
        playing the time I was riding under the guts.
        entrances that will us are which I feel alone at the sheath of a road and the part of a ripe hope 
        you will not live in a spider,
        but you’re not properly to tell my why and we don’t mind 
        I pass the rain and a man 
        with a little woman, 
        just the fourth to get out of this place in the end. 
        The alley was in, the car playing 
        into the wheel, a woman as the sound of the evening, 
        The world spilled the light and the brown 
        and the sun is the world, outside 
        a runner switched the bottles of the miracle, 
        in my house 
        that now is the world a day to interpose imprecise on the shadow 
        and I went for the dash and we linked the time into the bottle 
        to be seen for the dead and bent and we because I had been an altogether the fool 
        the painting of pillows of life and attempts 
        the search has it; 
        One of your stuff, and the seats sing the manner of paintings. 
        More than he found me, not so 
        my pool 
        was not here, there was stuff in those days 

[started a new batch of training late last night. this is a sample generated at about 1/5th of the way trained. it hardly makes connections between words on the same line. it does have quotes nearly right though ]

bleck chould of the siran of hounds

   something me there’s be great lacking of really explayed to would
  then see
  but uncement
  in a regort 240.
   I can’t know where a Fire
  the ale was on
  in the shakes are quiet of
  at Ball. I dream, and the fair
  is a wears of enough
  collows progever care
  but I should know she was on them instead and
  get into the street of the sibery
  to darking like
  where out with a
  wearing and I forget on
  the shage all the
  few to something of
  sace of
  broker:
  house the flight
  and raining her
  still
  and puts to the free boy and
  heard all on
  beround on the water and
  other all something
  nobody
  like the
  day of
  holding the begin:
  when we dead by a crablians went
  and she was just see
  grown while the times and bear
  pulls and the cowpard
  I were not head
  and the blood for the every after the man like at her were in
  the propet. then the streets, loves
  with her
  beautiful
  that you sometimes
  and he handing ats the doors,
  looked like
  stand
  up to drinking
  and one.
    I have to still in it
  loved from my blessed again.
  the trange holler
  what a song
  at the cackleor
  every more course back
  me.
  the unto prife rome for
  he said.
  you’re not magain
  and where I am
  the jorze and for the dark and soft
  I was about
  me
  in my streets

        and on the condown
  back up and while, we said,
  “left sometimes for it was pretty.
   “some door and you mean empty
  making they mountain,” he had
  a she was what’s take a clive.
  the other writers and a man expect long—
  the food dogs. 

79. In a mind, skin on the sheets

 those who were stationed in a webslide of seasons,
 that next station our my head and
 finally I recognize them, alone
 and it was the lion
 Job.
 but the old hair on my wife
 and me I can do
 into my toils
 but laugh
 again
 and the sun and her cigarettes
 burning,
 and he screamed at her, tall
 you will only be his finest, careless
 and it was dressed in the angel.

Water Poetry Springs in the same

his bones
under a window and pass
and even with death, the wet butter skin and
life.
I was on edge, half
in bed and in the grass
the glorious women and class
a good mount strictly
made in the god city and
ambulation.
the streets were not so long as lifts some days
there was sure.
the gods were not so long

with dinner. the graveyards of scribbling
my head and glass
I think or they do not forget about it

was to envisioning me to catch the short stable’s anthick
and I shook hands and I
asked him and she’s in again
and then they all have to, shivered the women
when I got up and back in and sat
the ass and the other ground
of shoes.

the common crooks
and we have a few
strangers of her breasts and the bowers
the frail, scared kiss my face.

listening, I start the doctors

still much like any story

and sometimes the boys climb the stairs

and they were dead;
we continued to
laugh

we came swiftly
outside my place in a
sleepy and bound town
and the protection was wasted to catch them

boy on the first train

 we left the next day

     and like with a democratic collision
     on the stand
     and the mammaries went to the world
     when the boys were there
     and the girls, a child to carry the curious things
     like pitiful sounds;
     a wallet class and their growing to a point of many
     sense than the bravery of paper, hell in a woman and make
     them in the dark with brown and
     the rest.
     I get up and watch us in
     college.
     I saw and sing 
     but being alone and talking to me then
     the face rivers must be done with the
     cars, the sidewalks
     the painted-panels,

a few men with the sheets of breakfast

Editorals

   I run out of her edge of the Arts

  to be left something

  to the copious top.

  good wino light

  the one has been one way that it's not good
to do is

  anything that the music pharaohs in their
clothes,

  all that poem was standing in

  what I will go to which you will

  pull out but

  the bottom of whiskey,

  mistaken, men

  as I must be not lined, metal

  to give them the 3

  cents

  of my aunt's.

    you will kill me

 
"enseek million life he made it rights to me"

     He had burned one insticistents,
it's a great match, but soon the sun is in and under my head
Who didn't know the track he plays
some country in the afternoon, hungover.
A shit, his arm, all that worthy, dirtches,
window with a flush of posements to find me now,
and I sit on the table had seen that black hair
and we are still there.    
     my wife watched a man.
    I am not much much easer
as the others come
she starts with an old successful fellow

“Happy not Poetry Review”

 GONE BAND

        I made the sun.
        I memoried you, she said, 7 got the light,
        I even finally stowed the cigarettes
        with game but you take the shadow
        and some of the those and the halves
        in this room little worse
        as up a drunk
        for my rearview
        and wearing
        drills at
        from the wood
        feeling but it's
        the deep pot
        I was asked
        my chicken tell me in the other
        cats.
        even he gave the been time I
        had a knife and help my luger, I'm
        guest.
        not look at
        the place I'm in. hell, I've got out of it sapience.
        I sat in pink off an idea Montatte had
        never wants
        something hopeless and the walls
        with luckily class and drunken
        limits
        and the expressing with my eyes and
        her hair that have been found out of
        my smoke.
        we screamed them walking across the
        bedroom and dad who has as
        nothing
        and now
        who felt ready
        computer than a car
        of course.

[very early in the training process, no editing. posted for interest. we left all the weird characters in]


we turn fat
 � � � � � and almost been
 there was a collection to the trick
 � �     it was almost dating fatal shoes smoke
     buttoned
     such mouth of the victory
     and when I got it,
     the lights are raining
     being a giraffic composed
     and the way
     in the bathroom in the
     glory.
     like was a batther
     as the people are interested and good and she sad
     tiredood lovers happened, found a large
     explore in the mead--
     the mid-gut through the dirt these.
     ask the each of walking through the
     sea.
     she looked at bed
     tea, what but the one flege your shut or the busaness
     the unless and orour
 � � � � � � and as we all are always the
     head and a broken slumbe
     and there were best trying to find it
     with a whiskey with red and divorted by a fine
     and she practitive the discasses them life to the
     minute.
 �     and the tree was listening to the
     daughter like hard-out.
     the bars and the triblings large back
     to the bathroom was the late
     and flaming out caged the man
     before the fish right or and scrapped by
     the publicine guns.
     she really, like hard to a door and then
     the day is on the fuckers,
     it�s said, I�d seen the tables
     while the middevery shoes, everything
     they are tasted to the even of any people as he
     know him, durt,
     I broke the window was as we had found the time
     and he was driving my mother
     then in and eating the bathrooms
     or and the day of an old man my hand
     and so you let him all they took anything as
     light, crazy to the cop more.
     then we finally read the rains of an old day.
 � �     and the Childroop of Didge has a pink
     and does and tears a stuffered diseased behind
     poems
     while I live thee and I
     stayed out of the scream and works the trees
     and daynings and
     their laughter her boy can only later
     and the blades were a war to live
     but my person are so they know that
     many moment.

“THE WORLD YO”

[low temperature, more repetition]

There in the shore of me and like the spirit

And from the sun might have from the street;

There she stood the same stream of sweet love

And soon is bright through the shades tartly strengthen;

And the sun, well, of the sheep of the street

The sleep and the street, of the street

The shade of the sun, shore of the sea

The winds shall be sitting ne'er the sea

The sun she stood there and the contents from the sea

The souls of the street of the sea

The sunshine, she does not such a staring hour,

And the sun will spend the strength of the street

The streets of the sea

That so soon the morning sacred day

That sound as the strength who seem'd their song

The souls and we are all their streets,

The soul and all the season that she seem'd to see

The sun shall gone of his soul and the sound.

And the blood of the shore with commuters in the street

That sometimes she stood there to move still the grave,

The strength of the soul and she said;

the bones of my shore to the sea

That she couldn't stop

That will not kill thee,

The sound of the morning sea

The sweet story of the earth the maiden

The soul to sure and kind of their hands do not ne'er

The sun on the roof and life and some of the soul

the story that sailors when the third of them, few

I say in the sheets of the sound of the rain,

still the same thing

I have a rich hand on the sheet

on the street and the small stars stand

and stare before the spiders

from the street of the mind

and the sun is a lifetime

I asked my father what was gone.

and the blood and hands drink and he said

you have no longer to write me as the next thought

I had no idea that the sun in the sheet,

the sun of the sea

was the same one of the streets

and blissed in the sun of the streets

he went to the pier
 we will have some
 cigarettes
 and wish delight in
 and looking at my drink
 we might have been dead
 and a little dieting for the affection
 and the saddest
 word was lumber.

“Goodbye”

       “goodbye,” said the other old fart.
        Me, at least I’ve always written of a life 
   and the dead streets
        and of my wife and her lovely guillotines
        and the nun raised it to the bar, still
        and the car down the palm sides like I know.
        I have seen me do it
        in the street.
        I had a chance in the sun. 
   his publisher's page, another party
        and I am going into my car with the partitions
        of the world and
        dying.

        I looked at the door, thou must be a lady covered with
        spreads with a noble than endures of the
        other one and the whole
        dog started in the back.
        it is, a little unemployed and
        repeated til the end
        before the old man didn’t want them off of the couches of the
        market-tops.
        the problem is not good to weigh
        a place.
        he had one and one was in his mouth
        with the girls and the rail's doll.
        which I keep for she wanted me to
        and I think I’ve lost count in the wind and
        he made me front again, starving and eating some candy,
        some men dead because of the fist, my
        fellows and days
        the first day of
        the
        dark wind.
        the particle lines are in the fall as it was
        good.

        she was listening to a bald man,
        and the gods in my face, onto the leaves and
        the woman is a minute
        and we would even all of everything.
        but I could see the keys in the street
        and it is better than the sun can of pretty lawns and the shadows, the friends
        and the woman was sitting in the chair,
        and I am a mask of painters, the same thing on me.
        she could take care of nothing or maybe it’s the salt and women.
        when I am a married man who carries the way
        and I watched the bar and the same crazy
        goldfish while I was nice,
        the sun on his wife and she was sitting in the street, the angriest of her ships
        might have been here, still alive and her, or her joke
        as I was for me to be with the flames are forever
        now was sitting on the bed
        walking along the walls of my head
        like his back with white wine
        it took a little while and I looked at the lawn that I was sitting on, 
   the radio sang along
        and the spider sang.
        I asked of his poems, of his life, of me
        and he went out of the land toward me,
        it’s Grace, the light on her legs,
        and I as a whole am standing in Paris and he was dead 
   and the shirt
        Will stripped off in the street.
        I will play a beer at her
   a beer past good and on to hell, 


   I was down as she
        walking to the family's skeptical place.
        the phone rings 
   rattled, a man has a cigarette and 
   she had a count of
        people who have barely seen
        that she was neither and gone;
        and I was worse for the fire.
        I looked at my money.
        I walked into the bar 

   on the radio, an old man from his head,
        “hey, what’s the biggest woman after?”
   I asked
        “kid you in our coast town,” she says.
        “I have a good tongue with the bottles
        that I was writing off with
        your word
        and the foreman was a good one,
        some days, you might spread on that day
        you got into this bar
        on one.”



        the rain lets up and off
        the still
        and I left with it
        and walked down
        to the car.

"Acceptance and Hope" 

I taught him and pulled around, beautiful
        as further as it was, not to wait.
        the next troches red, it's an elephant 
 you waxed in the tour books of the agencies and their gods
        was I one of them? 
  the hair closed it up and I said,
        “let’s get out of bed and walk through the nexus”
 I will tell you that I could never
        get the parts and that if you don’t know why it’s like
        one of the liquors in the garden. you will
        kill yourself in a bar
        in the bar 
   or sometimes
        just the eyes are dead and on a side of the world
        on his bloody small spiders
        and they were black and it seemed to me
        the lamps were not enough:
        but it’s too much, she said,
        the police are still
        at the sidelight, their hair,
        came through the sports bar
        weighty, as the eyes, really
        a woman in the afternoon
        I’ve got a silliness in my heart
        with a scotch and water,
        and the next, later, was
        under that very
        kid,
        too.
        the trolls are gone.
        the sun is a fire and playing His
        work.
        “you should have to list each other
        you will be which one of you in the
        evening singing, his head alone
        young and her legs and the time, it's over,”
        I said.
        then I walk on and on 
   up your stairway with a roaring.
        I looked like an old man who still had some of his soul 
    and I stood off
        sticking people with the moment 
   and she was trying to feel 
   which is not the minute of her peace.
        it was a painting for the next woman of
        peaches. 
   he walked there against the body, 
   rainforest was in the mirror 
   and pulled the bar and he leaves this strange
   and showed his phone
        I will have been drinking in this place of grass
        the plays and 3 or 4 others,
  Acceptance and hope.

some men are fire so I loved the fire,
 I am a madman

 offering with crazy in the same pot upon the side of his order and
 I watch the side of his face;
 the shadow of the dirty dawn,
 the sun from a liberating slumber,
 he was as it was to be with this world.

“My Mary!”

I am going to die in their care;
     Some men live as a still, round, heart;
     And the self-searches taught her his sports,
     He wept in heart with dear,
     While we may see the vision.

     Ruth, no belly on stately chairs, with honest men,
       As we are the dead are these, 
 the leaders to do is when all are away,
       My friend I have fur to fear,
     Where the sable entirely moan,
     The spirit of the forest breath
     In its bear to me?
     Or new which our needles doth bear
     Harmony falls off the correction,
      Hare approaching all the day,
     And from his white bowers of snow,
     While in the sun pale to the nightly sight,
     When the songs of life is love and solemn
     A wheel that from the wing,
     Save where she lives, in first trees, the pride
     In Mathewson and still fair,
     Shall though live above the ladies:
     She is the magic that shall get this made,
     For the same as they are not social;
     The light was his rest, as you still so sing.

     Deflowering a hand of the boweled walls, the decay
       And we would have been
     He lear'd the candles apart
     His shield is greater fiend,
         Leave alone with the chosen
                                                               My Mary!

PRANKSTER
(The Men Who Own Them All)


        He although is not listening for this
        sucker and I am ignored
        that sleeping next to the windows,
    hollowed
        in the hospitals, 
   the world,
        the Genera had gone, 
   the milky organ sounds,
        the stocky, by my shout
        and said that night,
        when I thought at last we stretched for
        the coughing again,
        if bums from the other day saw rain;
        I didn’t give up showing with a string
        staining 
   at his friend.
        then the world was dead.


        he asked me do things, open bold poems, 
   I am harder. you have
        theirs?
        he shouldn’t blow him that his front 
   fucking with them and over the knives;
        they arrived at the first of a low
        stinking parrot
   out charger
        her little chill-legged, 
   not on some puddles but at a dark spot.
        and it tasted all the woman on the same day
        another one that was the main one 
   the space of nothing rolled.


        I watch the soaps and am staring at a beer.
        I sat along it shrale 
   and she’d better be back with the
        booze.
        I was not a the door
   looking at it
        theavered and gold,
        it should have
        seemed to be when we should be
        that we were at my song 
   so threw these
        limes in the bedroom
        as I was not because I knew.
        I had not selected that, 
   a mighty black one.


        then I hear this memorial noise
        thrown in their chairs
        coming from the wine
        and not at her back,
        the men who own them all,
        and I can’t help the first time,
        are you going to be
        thinking
        but now I am
        him.
        how you’ve had your
        woman?
        and the horse would not
        do it


        we sit down
        as the way to a yes
        when each error
        is in the air
        holds down
        on the wood home to
        read
        then
        back in the closet


        ago,
        we were something of the shit
        down to him 
   crack
   not writing, ready again
        and in sheets drinking and
        champagne fingers
        and on the other hand
        with a lunge
   go in, she said
        served
        hair
        this time
        the biggest
        terror, the other, mad.
        now there is no answer in the static of the radio
        as you don’t care, and
        especially thought of the good nightingales
        and my brown way and
        there’s homezes.
        the one would kill him, what books
        say?
        how they hear fools scream.
        it’s the raised hill it is a lovigator or if you
        keep reading
        that she asks
        and certainly found.
        we walk out of our skin—
        I didn’t have them and we
        should have
        politics;
        it is the same:
        brown now hates.
        I saw the real last flash of
        eyes
        but something
        about to showed
        in the next day
        with the buildings
        we got them
        than so
        wondering, scared to be
        breathing.
        which means?
        all of them? why?
        and pianos but a woman who would
        like to let you through
        they don’t want you
        because your skin...
        kicking him
        in the room
        looking for a terror, and
        well off