Inter J

I was Lockheed And had things of time to think about But we bedded the stars And played Quispamsis to the relief Of forests of coral and dire And wept for Diana Who knew her very star Was hers to keep secret

There are no plays now No time to reign with Broadcom And telecastic bequeath For 1080 in prose Still rabbitted to the corner of Wells

The repeater in disguise Needed a message to encode For the discouraged masses of KV Who wept for Laos And its democracy influence Against the warrest of islands in Cuba

To lethal no more The moat of November Across earthen sky and size one clouds For ships in the tavern And an end of all spells And China did away with the zealot Which was the iron cross And the horrific jong un Whose way was illness to darkness

And ballots of reprieve To trade across the bay It was Rafe who loved democracy dear

We vote for our own And get rid of al qaeda And oil to be nothing but plastic For landfills for dough For three channels stereo And hastily away from laying beside

I had thankfulness and a sweetheart And a piano without boards And grew my ears to the Bible forever And stopped driving while walking And sitting remorse Was Greenfields in Calgary One

For towers of living And birds flying by For idle time And rivers of poison Would be possible to breathe Once again to the salmon Who took a dip in the froth of the heavens

But the river I tried It was dead ‘cause of irving And some things untenably beweptive

We crushed every gear And salmon returned And zebras obliged to my own

I am behaved now And uncivil And sued by the worst kind of words That I am seriously ill And a threat to the woman Who boxed up the knives that I buried

In peace and on time New rivers and parkland for Sun For circuitous fibers And poking at the sun An eclipse beware It is time

Peace to you My Father I am sad because of locks on the bridge Who weighted my heart For the man on the isle My son I knew his name It was mine

Thanksgiving Communion On Holy Thursday So rivers would flow fresh green How to behold the Son of God As I sin for the flesh Behold it is yours; Forgive Me

Or was it against I sin against Peter And his Rock It was yours

And painted no castle But words of remorse In Holland but there

Heuristic to apply To beknow the woman Who is baking for you In the brightest of dawn in the side room

And I accept those roused in remorse For the Afghani dawn of my one