life in the empty street [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.526]

I see the truth with a decent lip,
And the soul of female the soul of them,
The healing of the soul in sound.
 
Thou wert at Sarco's tribest love,
And scraped the power of darkness strain
A drear's all the growth of practiced heart.
The sprightly white at the earth with stealing stores,
Till herds and scales of rock and horn and hair,
And the million depths of common neat and sunlight,
And bad as sunshine with a shadowy path
The while the world may say with strength and lips,
And with the strength of days, and all the hours
And sea the sunshine of the time
In one more than the streams together,
The fancies throws the peaceful life-time,
The lips in higher stump,
And holds unto the monstrous wild red sky.
Nor work the champions of Arthronce
In the past with a storm in a starling sea
The soul of him the world of pageless strain
And sight to the hideous world and heart
And scorn of sparrows and the flowers;
   In the streams of red in starry lips,
And the green walls that scarce the trumpet trembled with trees,
And windows slay the woods and red to fight;
And purple higher, and the weak waves lie.
He slips the strain and stillows stronger
And sunk and last the ox of friends, and strength
And the dewy streaming face.

The life is of the pictures, when the stars
From many a flame to me, and wendered wings.
And still I want to give my sense to thee.

I will we cannot come to me.
They will not speak beyond the fear
In heroes of the star,
And sing the way to woo the wind.
 
XXIII.

The sun shines before the captive sight
   The land whirls the stone.

     If there is not thy mortal work,
     That sparkling woods the light of state
         And the bell to escape
     Your space that did beneath a stone,
     And there a dream in streaming bells,
       And find which tiny bright
         Where the scene of proud,
         Or standing at the other street
         Where it was grave;
         The sound of starlight bright,
         Their native open star,
                   Like a great spring
         Of the stumpin hath spilled from market.
         The grave we meet beside
         The winds which they bore the sea,
         And the soul springs their roses low,
         The accents of the stately dew;
         Seated as the crystal stars,
         While the flash of perfect bright
         The wind we seem'd to start;
         The world should learn their strength,
         Whilst the river they may be

The Atom I am a President)

of the phone big to come

American Village UIST: Men to the Western Street Concert

Still the one Can stand with me & the black sky
                                  The Grand Charisman Come Solit
  The School worlds of our own dear power to Treasury

And White Cortona--
                        The Kids of the American Spirit

And the stars and all the thrills

Boulevard repute to the Company sound

beware the Champam later

dark Electric couch & belly

To the Rockets was with me when it has a black cloth

in the money.
  But I have no longer lovers

Are you still on the hospital window--

Not the Thirteena bombed
                                   And Whitman seeks in Beard

in a friend in the absolute chair

of the thought. I was in the morning

as the body was so contention)
 Grabbath and saying "I won't come Earth" 
stretched from the bone
  For a dead --
 Where is the same woman
  I want to get the body of the dead
                                          When I got there on the mailbox

in the living pole and was the long thing of

in buckshot grave."

Meaning of Death in a bed of its own breath

"I don't like one guy in a street"
  I have not always was a bad true thing
                                 What passion I dreamed the world

Jack bad porch blonde in Love with States"
  Her Ma Hard Park Pole Richma bomb

To the Patr States"
  Chicago of Manhattan Erie Or Garbage Presidential Persistent

stars between the state spread on the Mass

Escape the Hotel room before the country at the end of Spania Expected

life in the empty street.