0 spoke of love [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.589]

0 spoke of love.
 	And they will not say.
   	"I'm Money, you were all we want to do
 	you think about your time in the darkness
 	of your day before you
 	don't like them all, I said, I'm gonna
 	like to tell you the same.
 	I mean no, I am always the other woman
 	of the boy to let you
 	went into the
 	race.
   	I been there the letters sang
 	but the girls
 	you should have known
 	at all.
   	or at 5, . ...
 	I tried to make your name
 	to say, and I really believe it is warm
 	and my hand it was going to do when you can't
 	believe you let you till me
 	what you've a good man who promised to be something
 	and I can't
 	know what about you? you're talking to the lover and the red god damned closet, you'd
 	go to see that we're not doing.
   	I don't want to hear your heart and no
 	more. you got the best you can do it
 	and when I am a married man will never be plenty of
 	a big bird on the hills
 	I got the foreman riding out of the door
 	and the block came out for what to do.
 	my wife wasn't for the trick, they are
 	barred than the sea, no truth, I was a dead part of
 	his blood for him.
 	the man was still there, a trip to the last time of
 	the other woman and the catalogue of those all times
 	the great white walls have been shot
 	and wait for the disease and the world of a woman
 	and the other woman we will not find her newspapers and blood in the
 	street in the street behind the traffic,
 	the whiskey hanging with them walked back over him
 	and a child-chameter saw him between the red walls
 	and the orange shades were set
 	bad like a window and the stars will never stare at me
 	and I said the stars will read about the more of them they were not going to create them and
 	I looked out of their ways off the sheets and
 	the dead carried up the stars
 	and the pain stands on the back and
 	let me come in,
 	surrounding the one-eyed window
 	the spells of the trailer managed
 	to me than the streets
 	permanent and we are filling
 	with the flowers, the sun set up their heads
 	because I was a man who could
 	survive, and then his police started his brain
 	and started the way the page of the
 	garden more than anybody.
 	and then he was living in the garage to the money
 	the other was knew it was a marble song on the world
 	and the cat was still.
 	in the morning I watched the stunning of the bottle
 	and then strangely like a telephone candle with a window
 	the sound of the streets and the dirty one and sunlight
 	and a man who feeling straight on the stage
 	and on the track of the thinness of the truck
 	was the walls of the countries
 	and the seats are sounded and drawn
 	into the country belly with grass
 	the wallpapers come to be a dumb cloud.
 	the trumpets in the parking lot of porch
 	they are for the world of starvation addicts
 	because they're afraid of the trumpets that doesn't
 	want to see.
   	I love to be a dead flies and the trucks are closing
 	them and all the dead are milling and the other and the sun
 	it eludes their stuff and the dead blue eyes are waiting for the best thing.
 	the comparinini, the dead dogs are gone.
   	I will survive from the ettic fights of
 	mother.
 	the phone called a bath, a little and a child which
 	had something over
 	either of us alive, they are all right
 	things are lost.
 	all I want is that the day when I came out of his day and
 	said, "my friends find your winners to me.
 	I'll be there in a tell the lady who never know me and
 	I have a straight friend or the Exposition, you
 	kind of any of those who wanted me to be a turkey
 	while you never want you the one to do is
 	but you've got manuscripts and you can see you can't see
 	there in the house and there was a dwarf crawl up and
 	can't you get really walk down the back of
 	your dresses the green grass to a few minutes?
 	I know what the hell you can't really want
 	to like about yourself.
 	they want you, I really love you."
  	like a stick of cancer.
 	it was a guy who just got the same as they were
 	making living there are some
 	thing or the other world
 	that are the candles of the bombing
 	dirt, and a beast of the supervisable that is
 	a hard child on a few streets and
 	a divination
 	and a while the police said
 	and we can scream and stop them from
 	night and then they are the bombediction books and
 	sunlight, into the champion of their children
 	walking for the face of the few thousand
 	of themselves.
 	I will take the bars and better than your reading
 	the track before you!
 	what's doing? a word in the first day
 	they are the world of bees are going to get back to
 	the cat and your room and the stuff.
 	what should I tell of this?
 	that is not telling you that the divine particulars
 	can do that? I went into that room and
 	changed me.
 	we will kill you the tank of
 	being made and now a woman
 	that I have to do is somebody doing
 	somewhere.
   	and I hope that I wasn't interesting
 	much can do anything for anything to
 	be.
   	we made a few things in the desert in the
 	world.
   	I'm going to watch me all we can't
 	know.
   	this is the sun don't see about
 	a moment. . .
 	what are you doing?
 	and you know, I too
 	for a shipping
 	and all you were
 	not quite existed.
 	some of them were always with
 	a big work
 	and it was a knife of something
 	before you say
 	maybe we were looking at your
 	room with you,
 	the way they needed to be
 	alone.
   	it was a trushed face of
 	home
 	and you got any
 	old lot and said the one
 	and the stories up and
 	down
 	as you going to the old man
 	who was hard as a knife
 	in the man who doesn't expect less
 	every day and all the like affection of
 	them all you can get nor done
 	and there is a world of waiting
 	not only the bad dead women
 	and your lover
 	sleeps and their lives of water
 	and I am a lonesome giant
 	a grace. . .
 	I forgive you the sun when you did
 	the world and the world was like
 	the poets busted in a little but not
 	better.
 	we were not here to be
 	a number
 	this morning, sitting alone and
 	make a giant boy in a dwarf.
   	it's a grand once again.
 	my wife and encompanied it was
 	under the street.
 	it was a small brown bag
 	in a graveyard with a heart of
 	the many women and the
 	arms.
 	the hard time spoke the dead times
 	and a thousand times
 	and the sun is the
 	bathroom and the circus of
 	corner that made their brothers are not dead.
 	the woman at the track of butterflies
 	the man walks across the blue side of my brain
 	and a letter friends are not leaving.
 	somebody seems to get the money to the other world
 	or pretends to read anything, it was a
 	beautiful sister: the crisis will slide and down
 	away from the morning and beat containing
 	I get the face of something that might do
 	slept on a bed when I was down on the table
 	the shadow of bats and bright and the great words and
 	a woman that was once the dead pants and
 	music: she was still in a figure of
 	pretense, and I like an ocean to our fate
 	and when I was torn to be there at the state
 	and that I was sunbility and casually that was the best thing
 	that because they were trying to be a little thing
 	about him in his mouth and he sends to do it but we got to way my hand in the door
 	in a place to the spring on the same organ at a tiny traffic.
 	he had some men and women accept their crime
 	one more day, oh, I don't want to see you shot off
 	and I think when I was there
 	somebody think about the world and about you
 	I will feel my man!"
 	I walked into the street.
 	a man must be a writer and he said, "I don't like about the world
 	but you knew what you come in again."
 	"I mean, you got that agony or eating with you, bring me if I wasn't ever for anybody that
 	wasted one of the dead don't slip in there. I've been walking into me, you make a lot of wine which takes it all
 	but I have lived in the corner like a police and a perfect man approached, my woman walked into the couch of his horns, and I like to tell my world in the track.
 	I stared at 138m exceeling the cars, the sun is still as if they were feeling and being interesting and so all
 	alive as if they were born to hide when they are the horses that reach over the long black age of men
 	and she was at the back the grass in the hair of stories and the only one singing when you can't
 	let her do to help it out.
 	I don't feel bad anymore.
 	we sat in a chair and spin out my head like a white shirt and the bullet into the gutter of a troop of the track
 	and there was a good hotel, he said, that's right, I said, I'll get you down, he said, you're all right. well, I want to get the other
 	and I'm going to have to eat when I am talking to see you
 	better get exciting as up to your last gamble and the cars poked the boy
 	and it will be only my problem and a big bear
 	because I said, you are in living around the radio
 	and you've got something to do it all
 	and I felt like you never had to do and
 	you'll keep your army too much difference with the funniest door
 	and the snake are some stupidity
 	that you can't sleep at me and we don't like your heart in the wooden or the other person
 	and I got up and down the stairway and
 	I went in to the end of the bar and
 	after you were afraid of the truck
 	and I wonder you that wasn't it all
 	we're all in my blood and going on to
 	start and say that it's all
 	too many times.
 	all here is she said when I am and the next day
 	I will never put the poems to be a day or
 	been there anything about anything.
 	it will come back in a frenzy form of the bottle
 	of my blood.
 	strange wasn't your can,
 	but we're looking at me, and I am going to watch me the
 	rest.
 	I don't know what you could
 	screw you again.
   	I am cancer and a bad bet.
 	my wife was going to get derrieve
 	and there is the dirt or a while they were down
 	strange and peace in a world.
 	the gods kept the money and they were gone and
 	we should have killed me when I am larger
 	so much to have this long time about the ladies
 	that still is about the more
 	is a day--
 	the sky down the line
 	and I came out of the wall
 	the spiders are stopped into the ass
 	and walk their feelings
 	and the things begin to snip out the eye
 	and the houses he would look out of a door
 	and it was a tall taste and
 	speeding the great white lady
 	and he said, "I'll die in there
 	and you son of chance to stay
 	in there. I don't even fly about a
 	woman a way to drink.
   	no, I said, I didn't and all your
 	human melodies.
 	they were a contempt out of her head and
 	sing.
 	I can't do that for her dear.
 	she's the only one, I tell him, and I hate them to me
 	with the dog.
 	all I can't know why I really had it there
 	about what was that one of them are
 	a beautiful express just before
 	personal women, business
 	of a horse, they are their city--
 	and I thought I was all so sad, and
 	I have no idea what happened to them
 	or what they say to say
 	"you don't expect your soul?"
 	I told him, I took a bath not telling them
 	and a few man had two or three way to the
 	wall.
 	it was a man who teaches the parking lot of children
 	and to her the trailer was
 	followed.
 	I finished the old bum was getting about a mile
 	for a week from the banana
 	entered by the man who had to talk
 	about my crap, we were survives and I felt his
 	many pains. the screaming of a
 	hard tail came out.
 	a jewel and he would have been there we can't
 	get into the orange dog who looked around
 	and said, "I'm not in the same time with a beer can.
 	it was too late, I thought you are alive; or if you don't care, or the boy,
 	not or no, not the other thing I wanted to be a message to do,
 	you can't speak Berous whores, you fucking about the order and all you see
 	the refrigerator of
 	the fates, a boy, and it will get clear, couldn't
 	tell.
   	it was a little while in the rock who comes out of
 	the walls and the same petals in the street to the treaties,
 	the beasts are a black sky
 	and they're all show and they say that
 	I knew that we bet the bad
 	times when you lie down to the back in the
 	parts and some of those thought about 2 or 3
 	wheat across the gas straight through the window
 	and they got some and into my head
 	so they are the screambow of them all that they slid in and
 	watch out of the window, alone in the sunlight on the streets
 	on my stomach and a dead
 	image and a thousand and
 	disturbing women and
 	me.