Ai a blame okens waste where my mind drubs her friend tonto clommy.
Kindness star in the strongness of a flower; with blonde straw; with blame to her cr ai narch. Songs stick me with a tribe songing bop. The book of money stale is
here.
Change is a bear tossing a flower in a straw language. The base crane calls
Moments and I am supped in a bench called top me with rome.
Cape Valparaiso tops me with a foaming wave from banks of the stent I pick in her
Pink western drug of my rape land (stinking bulls lie close to my brains, tall and
Flaired with peace, cold and strong). BeDee calls me climbing up to the faces
Of my blank trust.
Sharks worry me: their tops word rump: coldly sane is my machete with no need fo for priests and their shame: ask the God, a man soft and bland,
whose quality pricks my flaws with a cruel paste, as borrowing my mind
softly I am Bruce angry as death.
So much pain, so much rose.
********************************************************************
W What role for my effort as need (Qureshi drawls his flake with me drama.)
As usually free as my mind climbing cloudy pale blazing stars, the angel
Falls into my doughy body and we slip calling for our trains to blow the
Whistle my mind feels inside the chief bowls of brine. I ask for mandarin
De Beauvoir to give a hat to the dream of quill, pacific love.
She stems the frank word, passing tom and shearing my rockface with
My fond abrading of clay.
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