Watch the fresh mud as the dry dirt in the air of the track on this thoughts,
should the hooves bang to the Tale of ancient rafter of the Ship of rein,
is the Mountain lame or is the valley forge to touch the saddle of each girth,
does the bet to that make the bits a par shun to grange on that buff a lo,
ask not for the breadth is the breeze in the round to what I see as pae,
truth to that is your founder on the pocket books of public lip,
for I it is the morning of what brings such candor as that is the breath!!
Streams of steam,
heat on this is just the simple prose,
to verse a shore on that stretch as the slow in motion begin that grace,
oh how for the peace of thunder on this lighting,
shall that be of what on how then humanity is really missing the Jockey.
Sip a drink and water your think,
as that bangs to your tail of a lend will the blank be of a friend,
does the words escape to only gate,
is the track of your desire a lane or is the road so freed that you as a Man can believe,
in more there is the bog and the Marsh,
on this log there is a Truckers mile,
instant measure!!
The horn of each railroad crossing,
coursing on the map of what read,
is it the garbage in the trash or the money on your belt,
where is the vernacular that does not drop your heads to the tows,
range with I to be,
it is what complex that does not pool,
the laps.
Trains an those Auto mow Be ole's make this just a state?,
then what is the smile that fell to the gin,
the ice in the clanging of what shot glass brought you sun shades,
is the echo of a shadow just the time of Moon on a scatter,
mark sting and as the be is it the spelling or on this lettered bake,
vintage violin or trumpets drum,
the orchestra of every hat or skull,
what is the hare in the grape?