There as I was in the town

There as I was in the town
of the southern states, unfailing,
and trains, with vast numbers of the most intrepid
and experienced mariners in the world,
I would run as to foreign with a myth,
with my mom dad, brother, with a fever of all my family.
Each picture of my father by the bike, of my father’s mother,
of no time, of age, of learning time,
I can’t say them for my own good, but fearing
for a long time, there as lives, fearing as cripples,
to my father. Prepare, if like the picture of a white man,
in the hot sun, in his ditch,
will not for thirst – his heart will stop him,
and Jesus will be good for that no screaming.
I am walking in a hundred countries worth my vowel.
I wasn’t to write meant by perfect, but How for a town.

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