Ninth

The dice bam on the table when you rise to go love like a razor.

   Not to be perpetually free is the verb for:

Behold! I sees a supple x when it is an ad you're a woman,

   and to be nothing...why...is imperatively empty of motive.

Not me, Chaoniah! When I can't love, Columbus

   said, when I, you and us question that women dominate,

my money and my lack of money or merit face with an imperative:

   The cat you tie now to the car posits the rudest love!

While to be nothing is miserable, the proudest grouse talks and sings

   out by the amphitheater money flying like lira.

Plus: in love you let Mimnermus poem Homer:

   Sing, man, so you lend a quarter to love.

I question and fuck this libelous component

   and cane those questioning, not the posse, but a well-lighted woman!

Which, if not essential, is easily copied.  Nothing, you 

   insane, half-flu of mine who swims.

Necking is dumb and I am appalled.  When you neck you ignite Tangiers:

   This is when your eye first felt bad.

The magic of ten Armenian cupie dolls accelerated the Tigris

   and that infernal magic you included rotates nothing.

The qualms of a boy are totally in our century.  Come, send tires.  Me is as dull as 

   going to tie the posse and nothing is as negative as you.



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