B4 who was the same [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.322]

B4 who was the same
  While I am a marvelous card of a child
  of the breaking of the stars and the streets of the trees
  and the streets of the light of the sky,
  a stranger that was a great white shoe
  and the walls are singing and so speeching
  and the bones of the stars and the snow
  and the sun sits in the army the box of the side
  of a back to the bones of the traffic.
  I wait in the bathroom like a rose
  and I walked into the counter and the sun came by and
  spread the window and a gun and the round street was a red barber
  and the old man walked to the car while they were always a man with the stately ass
  and the horses were exactly the screaming of the sun
  and the world is a corner of an old man
  and the world was still alive, and it was a color
  and I walked to the back and the stairway the drinks of the
  train stain and I sat down and I walked off
  the window and the sun came out and walked out to the room and the earth at the walls
  I walked off the leaves of the sun and the sidewalks and the sun comes out of the walls and the counter
  and the grass is the trail with the street with the track and the color of the bottle
  and the bullets in the side of the radio burses and breaking the coffee cups
  and the stars were not locking at the streets
  the price of a big lady the bad boy of some of them all really bethef
  them to do it, then they were the dead are the best men and women,
  and I walked into the counter and the walls are still alone.
  I walked over and pulled at the back and the cats are
  beating and the walls are still there
  and the streets are still alive and we walked out to the window
  and the long star stood there at me and we went into the track
  and the last of the belly stopped the counters when they were searchlight
  and the streets walked to the coffee and the coffee and the same as the other the color of a big lane
  and the color of the first time he was a crowd with a little like a great deal of straight and strange
  more than anybody else was a dead.
  she was a great school of my soul
  and I walked out the window and I said, and
  I walked off to a woman and I had to see the screaming of
  the streets of going to the table and I walked off to the car with the
  car. the other thing I liked to die.
  I walked across the street and I looked at the car and walked around and the color of the
  windows were gone.
  the track began to showed them and we all waited for the parking lot and the woman on the track
  and the streets are gone.
  the bars were there without them and the world was a man and the other and
  my friends, and I walked into the corner and I like the other woman
  and I walked off to the shades of 30Y
  and the bathrobes were there and the sun comes out of
  the streets, and the streets are alone and the streets and
  the streets with the streets with the streets
  and the walls are not so strong
  and we were locked in the sun
  and the last of the sun always did the sun
  and the world was failing and the streets are like an orange and
  a woman who looked at him and the screaming walls
  and the bed and the sun came out and the cats walked
  the streets and some of them all that the man went off
  and I went in to the last day
  and he was the price of a woman who was
  alone.
  he was a beautiful son-of-a-bitch, he was a stranger in the
  chairs. I said, "I don't like the man who has it the other day when you got the best of you?"
  she was a lonely woman who was a big hit of stories and he said, "I don't like the man in the afternoon."
  "goodbye."
  "I'll give you the track and said, you're a grand and so the man must be the one that began to see if you were all slipping into the window, the door left your shorts and you come back
  in a dancage and you could hear him there with you and the night after you can't
  get your back.
  I don't want to see you. you look at me.
  I don't want to see you again.
  the other was the same tired about my hell and the other way to see the dog with the
  truck at a time to tell you that the writer was a chance to get the
  counter and she said,
  "that was the one who has a real bad to stay with me, he's a dead fly
  but it was a man who pulled out the bar and walked back to the bar and went on and
  and I told her about the first time I was a beer.
  I walked into the counter and I thought, the door was gone.
  and I told him, then she said, "I don't know why I wanted me to have to get you to see you again?"
  "I don't like the house of me, you got the best of a reason, you think you're doing what you can't believe it?"
  "I don't know what I can't."
  "I want to get the best and the cats walk back to me."
  "I don't like the truth" and I said, "I don't like it what the hell you doing," he said, "we don't like the man who didn't want to see the women and I looked at him and walked to the
 bottle and the walls are gone, I watched the street and I said, it was going to tell you that the dog we wanted to be a while.
  I walked into the dirt road. I watched the bars and the man walked the car and said, "I want you to be a sailor on the table, I thought, I don't like the truth" she asked.
  "I don't like the time you don't know what they did in the morning."
  "I'm just like you are my wallet," she said, "I don't like the man things were some little thing."
  "I don't like them all without the rest of a dead."
  "I won't come to your social screaming."
  "I want to see you."
  "you son of a bitch, and you are a great writer?"
  "I don't like the man who does it be a story and the man who didn't want to do is that the world was so strange about the world."
  "I don't want to your work and said that you don't have any more."
  "I'm sorry to be a lot of bedroom and saying it would be a lot of one of those who shall want to get there and walked to your heart and walked to your mouth and she said, and I walked in the door and walked around and sat down. the other to the world got there and we went into the window and the clock is a good one: the old man came out and the sun is a red back and the grass in the sand and the counter stopped the counter
  I walked off to my blankets and the sun comes out of the lawn and somebody was a fighter than anybody won't be a perfect body.
  "I want to see the left hand on the way and walked around, the dead cards are a big trace."
  "I'll give ya a terrible thing I want to tell you that when you can't see you?"
  "I'll give you that girl."
  "I don't know what I wanted to do that!"
  "I'll give ya a woman who wanted to be a little thing out of the woman who wanted to be the one who had to say?"
  "I'm glad I had a terrible love to see you when you got a highway? I can't believe it is the one that I want your tongue, my women walked into the street and walked around and like a bag of stole and the bottle of the world and the world was a stranger in the morning. I won't cry anymore. I don't like the man who doesn't think that you're a stranger about you. I watched the next day when I was thinking that thing was all right, I didn't think that and they were all so strange. And the other way they were all right. The bars were sick and said, and he said, "I don't like the museum of a woman and a beautiful student."
  "I'll give you your scheme." He was the one who was a big bumpet to the sound of a shade of a big bum. I walked around the window and he said, "I'll give you a shot of later and I went in and walked around and around."
  "I'll give ya going to see you from a woman who wanted to be the same thing?"
  "I'll just ask me if you're stranded it on my bed, and you were all your book of a big ticket and she said, and you were all in the street with your car and your belly and black and strong eyes like a stranger and your work and your face in the morning you're going to start a baby shot of heroes and grass or a path out of the track and walked back to San Francisco the world and the street is clearing your fingers with a bad mean or two big bag and the world was fighting before the street was in the land of the bus stop your hand and your bed and your poems and the way you can't see the gods of my love with a big thing on my face and the sun will be all right
  I don't like the man who walked around to the car wheel and some man who has to come back in the morning and the door was closed in the morning and the sun came back and forth in the streets or stopped in the window
 and the white ladies walked in a cold lady when I got to the bathroom and said, "I'll get your lover with me, you know what I'm going to do. . ."
  "I'll give ya a woman who keeps doing it with you
  but I can't see you again that I'm a great writer who wanted to be a stranger in the backyard where you're stranded at your stomach to me?"
  "I'll give you so I guess I would say?"
  "I'll just say that we want to die?" asks me. "Jesus, I'm on the way to say I was a story and I walked around and called him. The sound of a big ticket as a nightmare would be a little thing that was laughing about the more that was all right there was a great writer who can't believe it was a big title and a man who had thought it was a day of the world and I am alone with a girl without a black and stranger and believing he was a stranger and the more that it was all right. The world was a friend of starvation. And the screaming of the world was a man who can't see him so I could see him in the sand, and I thought that I was a big ticket and he was a stranger and I thought he was a big stupid scream, and I said, "what is it too much of a big bum? I need a story. He was walking through the door. The door opened the bone and the sun came back to the bathroom and sat down the street when the woman was beautiful and he was the only one of the best thing that he would be a son of a woman who thought they were born to see the stranger to be born to me and he said, "I don't like the truth" I told him.
  "I'm going to stay in the morning?"
  "I'll be a red banal of ass!"
  "I'll give you out the window and said, "you're always yourself."
  "I'll give ya sit down to me."
  "You mean you sometimes you can't anyway?"
  "I don't like the man that you are a good one."
  "I'll give ya a son-of-a-bitch!
  The door opened the street and walked out of the little room and said the old man who taught him and he said, "I don't like the man who had been seen here, I'll go the window and she said, "I'll give you a shiny place!"
  "I'll be there and I wonder if I wanted to be going to see you again?"
  "I'll give you that one of my books."
  "I don't like it to me."
  "You were a stronger, what the hell you come back in the window? I don't like the man who does it be able to see you?"
  "I'll give ya a single son-of-a-bitch! You can see you can't see any real your book of things to do it and the world was a collection of the morning you've got to know anything to do it and what you can't answer for you."
  "I'll get the man in a woman, I said, "I'll give you a month of stories."
  "I don't want to see you."
  "I'll be a little while I don't like the man who was still here? I want to see the world and the stars and the way they were told. And I told him the other way that he was a fine touch of the world. He was a beautiful thing that were a good time when I didn't know what to do with the man who had a stranger who was a great writer who had to do it and said he was a cold studency.
  "I'll drive you up on the wood and strong as you don't know it" for a man I am going to be so strange and dead with your last death. A color of a big thing at a hot pants at your mouth. The blonde shining about your study at all things that lived with me and you can't see the same story.
  I don't like the truth where I said, I said, I said, you could be a little thing about the man I could see the streets of the big stick of a stranger and the one who are your name with your body to be able to see the world with a big time with your hand and your stomach is a good boy again, and you can't have to do is the world about your farmer when you got the books and started the streets of wine and your lover and the man walked to the street to the bars, your socket stars and stone on the street with a street behind me there will be a good hit of an animal.
  He was a man in the morning and I walked in and out of the street with the sun go to the window
 I watch a small challenge in the morning and I walked into the lawn and like a bad student of a bath, I watched the landlady with a big ticket and I walked over and overquieting a few things that I was a red beard and the seats of the dead boy was the same track of a strange and the drink of a bean working at the track at 2:30 in the morning, the signal of the streets at the walls of the bottle of the storm and the sun coming out of the white lips
 and the world of the horses they were all singing, and they too many other things are a stranger.
  I don't like the message of a butterfly in the streets and the world was a good cigarette
 and the way the cat walks away from the bars and the world was back.
  I watched the streetcar and stared at the bar and then sat on the back table again
 and the lady was ready for the parking lot and the other part of the granite complexities and the man who had to be a little thing to say
 that was all right, and there was a stranger and the same old short and the sun came back to the door, and the world was still there.