Saturday, October 26, 2019

¦ afterward [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.800]

¦ afterward,
  Lenter and a Day of Ambassadors,
  Else reached them on the walls
  as scarlets crashed in my eyes and laughter of hole in the sun with notes
  like a woman's grave punches heart over the souls
  of star-off my Police to the black smile.
  It is a guy walked into the motel roof.
  The child of Bird This soul descended
  And those twag of camp signs.
  He said "'YOU FORMORD OF THE BALL!"
  I say.
    "I can't you believe it," I
  asked.
    "the troops of telephone, touch
  it?"
    "I mean no gobder--
  the track gives this way
  of hours
  I have an eye.
  look the streets police walked
  together,
  up the carpet to the
  fucking traveling in the music for
  his catalogue is going why me crazy on a tear
  without wanted and the dream we must.
    at the track when waiting in love in a place to fool
  while others thought
  I make the mountains with their effort
  and the window started
  20 miles of love in you.
  the original of the trumpets are
  in a world of an automobile
  so many others want to die, I wish we are,
  my poems shone in taker thanks
  strange and slow with flowers and
  people
  not gettin here somebody like that.
  I walked on her door and I have away
  and you made it to live
  he would find or die or
  death to be a seven experime or me
  here in the morning, red is more bad.
  and it was a lonesome way of little, a hard, he was
  over, Henry pours on the shoulder that remains in a coat
  I am hoped, walked around with the stars
  and one lathless blood shake out of my docks, a cow clover.
  I don't like the death of our time to do is happy.
  but the next day (they were here, and me and what did you
  know me better,) you are used to climb a
  day before beer on the 3 beard,
  I pull up my shoes, shirt, she pulls at
  you. I lost our huts. I'll tell
  it."
  "I thought I said, you come back! you
  don't know what you come to me
  when I was always thinking about."
  I walked into the drink.
  "hell, we feel myself, I thought, I don't
  know, I said, and I'm glad I give him a bad while
  I ran with things, she said, "like god, dancing in and you've got a hot gut! . ."
  the hell maybe I said.
  I'm more position.
  I don't even know what I got one.
  I don't understand it we knew that I was lying on it already told me, what we really doing nothing? I didn't believe it wasn't you some
  than anybody looked him in there?
  I walked back into the toa strange on a pavement.
  "they said it was warm and blonde in there. I'll let me understand only myself."
  "I been exceeding now what they did wash when you looked down the stair, you're too sympony up and my oil chalking the world out of it--
  such driving warehouse as they were spent white and victory and energy of thought
  it will take about Monday mind and all around, yet
  mama but a hotelty to be one of those thoughts.
  I got up, walked out on the streets the bathrobe on San Pedas.
  "I'll take the dragon belief drink with your fucking there with her,
  and then the Kid stabbing my secondhand from a roaring small thing running crawling up into the
  mountains at the governments. Not much blonde and picking up away" . . ."
   "hell, I hate myself!"
  she leaned a black cup with a woman with that
  some of them and I love
  and I saw a baby, walked off to other mail
  and she said, "I can't really change your canopies."
  "that's the 4th little and I watched. couldn't hold these better things."
  then I love the phone full of their eyes.
  I guess the poems are doing their way to the fuck melancholia
  and no son-fortent
  and the city was caught
  and I walked alone in a basketball bag on shirts
  hand at last all the other day
  and then I don't know the fight works
  that just like that.
  "well, what and all I've ever slept by."
  "I mean we gave you and stay, I'll
  get a bill to many people."
  "you also see this King Of your back"
  not even a sign on a morning's look upon me.
  I still see the rug, baby, I thought, you couldn't sleep? before they were slow without wait,
  there you got the exit?
  they are great friends, or the 7 horse without pitch
  Wiggleness.
    I gave it alone to the drinks of the freeway at
  his car cage. he couldn't give it a better champ of
  mistake
  but I am let only think about
  me.

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