Page 34
By Jack Joseph Smith
A Actually pole souk and set
And crossed a fence last week,
And nothing has fallen apart
To this day
the last thought you have, perhaps,
will be the one that is entire,
the best one of all; me simply,
floating in water
I just want to make love on a Sunday
And in case you have forgotten
The way I cream the fruit,
it is always summer
And know one knows
The way I go about my business
And leave my tight skirts to
my own night
Silence, rise up; we are the ancester
Being tough in North America,
is normal. but I have servere dought,
that it is that way for the many
I say praise the streets
I say praise the enyon.