THE LAW IS GLAD

1.

First, it was good without sin,

If you’re wooden, molting

Solution, if you have a paste.

Some are so good that sound unstills

Me, my air, um, and my mother.

Complete the papers here, light.

This is written in the file, easy.

2.

Wait here, I’ll helm the wagon.

First, it’s good.

First of all, it is better.

Wicked linguists want to kill

The poor laborers

For death’s features,

The guarantee, the motivation,

There are many great rewards or

You owe a lot of too much.

Ministers of the wicked language

Want to kill poor workers.

Your god raises the performance.

3.

The law is happy in the heart of the heart.

Bury no mound. Become a gun.

4.

Do not go anywhere, take a gun.

5.

Fill the leaves here, light.

Let’s grow up.

Stop reading here.

We will grow.

Try to talk here.

Try it out here.

6.

In the fall, do the work of God.

The last stupid bit.

Put your god in sin.

Throw our God to sin.

The law broke the heart.

I have my soul, my mom and my mother.

7.

The wardrum looks in.

The container is visible.

The container appears.

Angels want to kill the poor.

8.

Eeyore was sick and killed in his hands

He blessed Elijah and killed him in his hands

And he blessed Elijah, and slew him with his hands

And Elijah blessed and killed him with his hands.

And Elijah will be blessed and killed with his hands.

9.

The law is glad in the heart.
My soul is with me, my mother and my mother.

Bury no mound, be a gun.

With the death of the symptoms,

I, my air, um, and my mom

Inherit all.

All heirs

Are held in the news of the heart.

It’s the expression today.

There are many different types.

AMALGAMATION AND CAPITAL

Sour tears 

the horn, taunt the spoils.

The figs quit trees.

Pinkertons cluster about marble,

jape for the ticker, toss greasy

but uncreased

the late edition in a trough, some-

how smug

still intoning 

by a wilty bouquet, 

a byline

the kills prove is solvent. 

Grope from pain the sureness

that death has a saddle on it. 

The placid itself

art deems frameworthy.

A monk ate your tree, left a note

noting there was to be no apology.