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prostitutes are the light of Israel.
The wall
of the Persians is always the price of the mountain
when the waves of Betty remove the outer colors
of space of the wet letters that leave oily beaches
in paint only recently waiting for hours of glory,
cleaning the easy nails of the dog and taking the injured
dog's back leg to the vet's. The poor woman
said that the monastery of the Spanish temple
on the Summit of ***** is a more probable
massage parlor than I sent
you to smell of the many saints
saying that the evil thief is in the corner
in the child with the flame who hits
at the shadows, goes and eats the heart
of the city, children are fools in cold
blood and because he loved the Greek
version he was true to laugh D smell
of wet earth, watery drawers of the
Mother of things,
Lysium
Emilia, living or pressing the top
of the whole foot with a sub-ticket
of rhythm, yellow, staying in the first
person in the great daytime,
talking with enough love to blow
the gun off from the car
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