III [Full poem] [Temp. 0.896]

III
  He never thought I knew walk before it skips
  because he had a man in earth and artillery survival and strangers as I have buried
  affection.
  Doesn't think he is pretty with the
  mission.
  or do I do shut? why?
  anyone juve?
    nails, hate, I trusted the
  beautiful newspapers.
  the other isn't true?
  do your manufe words or music?
  she'd pick him what they can't
  get me over
  and patiently have been drowned with this
  kneecaps of them, all of it,
  some feeling that blots being there,
  you pull the
  chair!
  this poem too!"
    "I don't want to Movie's work and
  make it all."
   "did BIG Missouri, his
  pennucce or a grave no losiciator
  complaining to idon
  after 200 years before one of the arms and
  up in the library" why is that tanks
  of the place?"
  she was a pile of worms.
  and it did then a better in one more full of
  just
  when I was a beer and she talked about it
  and we tried to get the door,
  crimson and ass, checked down, wait, midnight slide, unanimolinent, so
  dog.
    I see the other machine but you see you, get your hat and yelling
  in me again.
  somebody yells well --
  she says in the eye
  she went to be closed, but I'm
  better, frightened by side, misery.
  as I watch, who talked about I am,
  I don't do anything. look, I'm tired away for the
  death, are. all right I know it
  here is some coffee cull, you're ridiculous--with sense of her elbow mesail and
  1980.
  as I came back in there in a hurry back and the stars and I have.
  later, say, I told her, drove off and talking about the
  editors.
  then a man walks to the track, it's really like you
  
  but another day, he was going to scramble the main left that's coming
  through the rockets
  over the quiet.
  I talked them all, stopped and
  made me fumnis.
  my wife was tired for him, I was not coming home.
  he ate this rush into the ring.
  they clicked him as I start belly to the
  bed, sobbalchiva. and what's that better than
  jewel-way?
   the crickets are full
  dead
  and you don't remember why I am both and die
  as the guy is 40 or sleepy.
  the intellige screaming we retark the
  carefully factory, stiffensized at his face,
  he clicks, "many a stick," said Harry,
  what press his rotten and the last deathlessness
  lay in there, it was slipping and when
  it was so lonesome--he wouldn't have their coming badly.
  he looked at her wit half-a-thirtypockets,
  the first bard outside the sun was falling his-cut more.
  I entered: "get the bed to yours, doing this man would
  touch this one, I guess you're hard--
  and you think Rexited  but you're always home for me
  and my baseball was just happening
  with my rematching
  fellow who wouldn't hit that head is going
  to sit in the doors and yellow and
  your eyes and your
  guys say
  nobody wants you.
  I still kept trust you never quit too much good that was
  self-assembly.
  and I said, we are a stranger while it is
  our parts. I haven't bound me they screamed,
  not just God won't be fuck you
  are like somebody wants dark.
  wonder if they sang a hand
  if outside it was berry-beard, and
  after the night the age may sleep, thinking about
  their riddles to the earthquake and several times
  and I thought it was, that was the sun will be, and all the time in love
  with the radio and the screaming of a
  traffic at 60 miles to recordence
  and I put a perfect deaf and all the people as
  noted American cirture.
  a man must use them running a dozen mouth of been
  bottle, rolling near the street
  and the sheets have been on
  the main strange day;
  read the walls of the blue vetlobs
  some ugly, it had one boy of
  desperate estrangements.
  the dwarf said, there are
  nothing.
  necessary fulce themselves,
  a moment.
  at 12m verge, the cub, a bein old poet
  awake, "dead and Germany on Contras into Savaga and January"
  pig up the radio less laughter. what and that
  social song.
  the milkmat contended, big and blonde.
  then the dresser in a real break watch-doing, nothing being
  learning to make bear in the land
  he points. after he was told one morning
  smile, and then he sat on the proofs
  halfway through the beardless cracking cafes of grass
  and I looked at once stands on the neighboring laughing, pulled back while confected his ancient lovers
  this stirling in their number support with their light bunched over and over her lefting loop-
  sucking at spot of talking in the glassed sand.
  When I saw an American heart talking they are turned
  through. and there was a week hanging out of
  dark, many other mind, tents, their cars and big
  and flies with itches in there:
  agony and foretocks, sexials and the two.