+ for the old care [Full Poem] [Temp. 0. 340]

+ for the old care, and the streets are strung and swallowed by the hand
  of the sun in the sunlight and the sun came through the streets of the world
  where the trailers start from the concept of the mountains of my mother,
  and the world is the same while we are all around the bars,
  the stars will be a peaceful spirit, the world works and the dogs and the bathroom of the sun
  and the trailers were still there and they are all the way to the walls
  and the counters walked to the back of the street and
  the sun singing the white madness of the red river and
  the price of the dead and the flash of strangers
  and the streets and the sun singing their stones
  and the counters the counters rolling through the green walls
  and the streets that come their way to the eye of the streets and
  the streets of the world is a man with the first time to be there
  and when they were all along with their hands on the street
  and the world was really the same while
  when they were singing the way to the world
  the counters beat on the street
  and the stars will not start
  and the screaming of a pair of grass
  and the sun singing a dead black and the sun came over
  and the bathrobe could be the stretch of a torture
  and the stars will not stay with the nudies, their times and
  the streets and the streets that walk down the road
  in the sun singing and the slave of the brain in the
  arms and the streets will be strung
  or the street waiting for the world who worked at
  their eyes and the world is a dirty women, and the morning is the first time there is a
  screaming white light, and the sun don't slip into the sun
  and the sun singing their way to the walls
  and the bars come back and forth as the doc lifts of them
  and the next to me is the same as they are all over and
  alone.
   the other was not a shark-bored car on the street
  and the walls are crazy and the sun came back and
  looked at me and looked at me,
  "I will send you some money, I want to see you again, and
  you have to die of this?"
  "I don't want to think that I'm going to see you
  at the door to meet you again."
  "I don't like the man who said that you were a great writer, you can't believe it"
  I am a fat man beat on the back of
  store.
  I see the present starving on a trail of a bottle of wine.
  the other old son-it-a-top of been a day when I was a beautiful son-of-a-bitch, he's a dead
  and the dead flake is really a probability of sickness in the eyes of what it was about the streets
  and the other thing about the truth where the counters was a fight of wine.
  the other was a little thing that had a beer and the sun coming out of
  his back.
  he was a chance when he was a chance to see
  the contents of the abstraction and the sun was the other world
  and he was always the dead and the sun while she could not stay out of the bag and she said,
  "I am still thinking about the world who wants to be a little but a gun
  and the way they were not a person too long."
  "they want you to get the front office with a bad world of old man.
  I'm going to think of her books of an explosion and the other man around the
  wall.
  the door was a great writer who had a damned time with a good time
  in the mailbox in the morning, the world was walking through the track
  and the world was on the back window and the dogs are gone
  and the door left and I thought about the world off
  the man who had to be there and we were going to stay out of the
  library and I walked into the parking lot and the sun came out of the window
  I walked off the light of a bar on the hills and
  the grave, the bathrobbers, the whores and the sidewalks and
  the back of the streets of the bottle of the table
  and the world was much to be a chance.
  they were born to be a big ticket and the world of my eyes
  and I walked off the stairway to the freeway and the champ of the dark and
  saying, "you don't like them all!"
  "I don't want to see you."
  "well, I don't want to see you again."
  "I don't know who to do it."
  "I don't want to see you."
  "you see that you have a boy and your course, you're soon?"
  "I don't want to see you when you got the bars."
  "I don't know what I want to do is that you don't have any
 meaning."
  "I don't want to see you doing," I said.
  "I don't like the man who was probably some screaming the money."
  "you son of a bitch, I don't want to see you going to see the dog bags with them and
  I am a finger and the sun come down the stairway to the world and the world wants to do and
  we all go to the streets of going to be a box of stories
  and I walked over and the door was ready for a while.
  he was a friend of his wife and I thought about him
  and I am a friend who is a wet and hand on the track
  and the lady walked around and we walked to the door
  and I said, I said, "I'll give you the main side of
  the red door and said, I guess it will see the dog on the track, I said, you come through the tickets of
  Marilyn and I'll tell you that wasn't the man who doesn't seem to be the pain
  I mean to be some of the world and the dog barks of the catalogue
  and the bars were going to be a bad message
  in the morning. why don't you see that you don't know what it's all right?"
  "I don't know who you want to do is to me by a good man!"
  "I don't like the truth" she said, "I don't like the world's figure of the man with the bottle of your last punch or a week) who looked at the champ of the wheel and the trucks were all watched in the morning
  and the sun will be all right as the distance are made of the broken leaves to the floor and the music is a good time to be a long time and then they were only one of them all we want to see the face of
  my friends and I am a weak shoe.
  I don't like the man who didn't want to be a glass of white and blown back and
  away.
  and I told them all the time with the rest of the cars
  when they were sick and they were all so good at any other,
  and I let a lot of strains are a dead room
  and there is a week about the world and the man who has no
  got to do is to be a day or the face of
  the streets of paper station, and I walked away from the
  side of a black fly and I started the best to make a starvat open the
  bedroom and the man walked the streetclack and the trailer said and she was a small distance staring at the window and walked to the bathroom and
  sing.
  "I don't want to see you again."
  "I said, you could be a lot of my friends and your life it was a stranger about your stories, you can't believe it was a place to just want to get in there in a while they want you to see you again
  and you're the one that can't be more than your work or for a couple of answers and the streets of the butterflies
  and the nudie dancing of the streets of golden over and out of the parking lot and the man with a big drink in the sun
  and your mother wants to get the good times when they were gone
  and the counter she was a beautiful shipping car and your stomach leaves are closing
  in the streets of the storm and the bars will be the most of the truth
  they are all going over the walls of the crazy walls
  and the way it was a big chalacyrial was the chair of the bus stopping their ways of water in the sun
  and the streets are the same as the sun was born to the streets
  the phone rang and the grass is gone.
  I walked out to the top of the window, the whiskey laugh at the street when the last week like a dark room of
  paper wine and his waist and some of them as he was coming to the world.
  "I mean, you can't believe it was you that thing you can't be able to see you again."
  "I don't like it when you got the best of your heart, and you can't tell me to meet you again, you're doing with you
  to be a strong whore and the world wants to get a better than your hand and your drink?
  I don't like the other time we can see the poem to make you
  stand in a parking lot over the street and she said,
  and I walked off to the window and said,
  "you want to see you again."
  "you want to know what to do is that the lady in the women are right?"
  "sure, what are you doing?" I asked.
  "I don't know who to do it."
  "I don't know when you can't see the dog of me!"
  "I don't like the man who does it for you."
  "I don't know why I got the world and have to wait in the track or to go anywhere in the
  bathroom?"
  "I want to get me up, you were always there."
  "you can't sleep?"
  "I don't like the man who does it figure that many your childhood won't come back"
  I said, "I'll never know what to do is to the end of them."
  "I don't want to think that all you come in to see you
  better than anybody who doesn't seem to be
  the man on the way of poetryHist next to your back.
  I don't like them to see the bars, you can have to see you
  and you were a great writer who works about the truth
  and it's a hard, it's a lonesome person
  and I walked in and out of the brain
  and I walked into the radio, I want to tell you that man was a chance to see you
  better than anybody in the middle of a person to me
  the problem of the streets and the dogs are not going to be able to see them
  and I will tell you the truth with them all the way you can't
  find your best things to be a dead and a man who did it out a little while
  and I walked in and out of the window and the cops were going to get there
  and it's a hard changing way of answer.
  I walk into the room and said, and I said, you come back and
  have to be a big fighter and
  I don't like the man who has done to see the world and the rain
  and I thought you were all the one who thinks you're still there?
  why do you really want to have to do is that you were an extra wit?
  what are you doing?"
  "yes."
  "you don't like to be so sadly on the bar," I said.
  "you son of a bitch, what's hard to send you?"
  "I don't know what you can't.
  I don't even know what to do, you're going to kill me, you were an instantantal one man
  and you were an interest in my lovely Hollywood Monday and you can't see the trucks and the other wasn't you going to do
  and you need a beautiful to see you are, and you talk about the many things and the problems and the streets
  and your blue eyes are still there are you and your press and being there
  the big day we were not so strange about the many things that it was
  and you are lonely in the same time they were all watching them all the streets and the dogs are gone
  and the man who walked away from the track and showed you
  and I will think of your books and the way you can't see the best friends and
  many of them that we need to be a woman and I watched them with their face and
  many of them that you were an old window and you think you're going to be a different place to get the best
  or the same thing they would like to be a little while and the streets will be the sound of the street
  in a moment and I walked in the window and the door was lucky and
  you were all right, I'm going to see you.
  I walked into the room and the cats are talking to them the bars,
  it was a man who thinks I was down and the door was funny
  and I said, I said, "I'll keep your stuff," I said.
  "yeah. I am a freak for a girl, I want to see the truck to walk off the poem and said,
  "I don't like you that thing had a dead lady," I asked.
  "I don't want to see you from the woman that you were can't be blowing there."
  "I don't like it to you."
  "you don't like the man who did you do
  it?"
  "I won't be a gentle and still thinking about the world."
  "he was a child that is happening to do it and
  while the world was gone. he told me.
  "I don't want to see you."
  "I don't want to see you."
  "I don't like the world in the car. I'm going to have to see that her drink, I don't want to see
  them."