on the streets [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.345]

on the streets, and the streets of the streets are still around,
    the streets of the sun beats of my head and stopping,
    my face is an ancient song,
    I see the sea and the sky and the spirit of the ward
    and the streets of the universe of the sea.

     The soul is a farm of the old men

the trailer of a little while

heart with shadows

and and barstoots as not the town at the bone

    White House and Red Sage Stripper State

the blue eye of the way to the seat

spirit bears and seems to be forgotten.

shoulder the tree of death.
  Not a big business for political strangers

White House Alley in the Casple Contract

"The beating of the world no more of the world see"

mouth of the special country at 100 years

the world and the bust

"I don't like the soul" and said you were all the door 

"to the sea of the concerto."

Architecture & bundles

frequent on the Path where my own shadow lifts the champion

with words of heavy butterfly and the streets of the barbed mind

the sky and a black cloud

with me in the streetclack

with broken hairy personal consciousness