Like a rose, I am alive

Shuffle the shunned commoner
His path is left of reason

I test you listening:



For me poetry is the anxiety of knowledge:  where the word will lead?

I am part of a crock of pain  anger selfishness

Delete Delete Delete.

I post-op.

Call me another way of being a rope.

I disentable the costs of my love.

Same here.

Gold is a rope.

I tie myself with a family a father and his roses were no body's desnity.

Kastle Kapektalkjalfkjiajalfja

Rope.

Great spangled free writing will take you anywhere but witout a friend of my life I am a rook.

Keep love reasonable and I will know your roman laughter.

AS A ROOK I AM A LOUD LOUD

Does pretension seep into every word that emerges from my type.

ingllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

I seek only to give you a loud god with no fear of part IN.

This knowledge  of God's origin:  Where was Jehovah when the Israelites began?

Was I there?  Did you know what I wanted?  Why seek always after the calling of a drunk?




There is no synthesis of Law and Moment.

Cash and Old Reson.

Gift is not laughter and I am bowling with a believer of money


Cash is a foul drunk.

I catch myself knowing what I know.  Sylvia Rivera called me famous.

I called her a poem.

Ad laugter

Call me a famous rogue.

Doesn't treat like I do.

My voice goes staccato on me, with ferocious emphasis of each individual sound as I make you give me a fail.

Anastasia.  The Czar.  Stalin.

Mama is a loud famous reason to work.


Lemondade.

Jasmine Carpenter/Borelli were a patient and soft reason for a pod.

Notion:   uneditable work will never substitute for editable writing.

Or edible panties.

Har harhar

Snark.

Don't Publish This.  Please.  You don't have to show everybody what they already know.  The tedious workings of the estranged mind.  Hahahaha.

Hey, Rusty, did you know that I am baloney?

Hahahaha.