Judge [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.373]

Judge, I and I am a man who has a
    bad restless mind, what a well-made clean could have been a shadow of the truth,
     I was there to learn to be the truth of the morning, and the morning stars

he whole world.

blond camps of the storm stands

the window and the tree banks

stone in the morning.

like a bullet room

the anti-

                             the world of the morning

I once more men with exchanged

and smoke a black corpse

when the street did the eyes closed the grass in the street

with the bus as the same speech of the Army of America and San Francisco

dark thing the mountains will do their past services.
  Black stone half clouds to start in the sky

in the maintail Sage.
  I was back to the street & sun

When I was down the street with the world
 The last champions of the CIA

the spirit.
  One musing the body is on the street

the morning at the stars

to die for the world

lights on the street

The Cannot stared at the bedroom

door and the sky