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confessed violet crimes against women we should break his records and burn his cd's until he apologizes. the trumpet's mouth is apology. you just write a poem about your need to do that a madual johnson. all right. live people. the pins point come downs on the butter fly. the knuckle come down on ms. sisly. the mallet come down on the cd case. wait! the mallet come down on the butter fly. the pins point come down on the ms. sisly. the knuckle come down on the cd case. wait! >> the knuckle come down on the buttir fly. the pins point come down on the cd case. dammit. the butter fly, ms...

in the veil of flowers beyond its southern pass. slipped down to me by the sky long ago. broken, a coterie of lambs thought of as a bush. the land was yellow and contained a tree. a man tied to a pole looked up. he is praying and others, too, are glancing eastward. oh, house of cans, i squat, wind blows. to replace its word is why i gather mushrooms in sticky sun i squat, peaceful juice spills on my gaping pant leg finally, finally. the mountain becomes a cloud, slouching south, following the man. and it's my great pleasure to present beau. . >> this is called lesson. trying to pull ...

the epigraphs that will ground it some more. quote, miles was guilt of self confessed violet crimes against women we should break his records and burn his cd's until he apologizes. the trumpet's mouth is apology. you just write a poem about your need to do that a madual johnson. all right. live people. the pins point come downs on the butter fly. the knuckle come down on ms. sisly. the mallet come down on the cd case. wait! the mallet come down on the butter fly. the pins point come down on the ms. sisly. the knuckle come down on the cd case. wait! >> the knuckle come down on the but...

the jackel lies in his bed. you ask me about his reed pipe. the wind must play it for him. you ask me about his sweet songs. the wind must sing them for him. satur, the mother of dimusi, weeps for his song. once my boy wandered so freelly on the steppe, now he is captured. once dimusi wandered so freely on the steppe, now he is bound. the ewe gives up her lamb, the goat gives up her kid. my heart plays the reed pipe of mourning. in a place where he once said my mother will ask for me, now he cannot move his hands, now he cannot move his feet. i would see my child. the mother walked t...

it travels through her journey as a queen and a goddess, and much of her story is devoted to the love, a very passionate love, for dimusi, who is a shepherd who she takes as her husband, lover and king. and this is called the return. a lament was raised in the city. my lady weeps bitterly for her young husband. anana weeps bitterly for her young husband. woe for her husband, woe for her young love, woe for her house, woe for her city. dimusi was taken captive in aruk. he will no longer bathe in aradu. he will no longer treat the mother of anana of his mother. he will no longer perfor...