Gerrymandering theorum
Hits limit in viability
Loss of life shortfalls in decorated language of free speech
Cost cannot exume counter with a warm hand

Trying to expect my space
Stolen and never handed back
Untouched bruise
Ousted jade rains
Please crawl in my hats
A soft even yellow sun
Design daylight under falling fun
Sheer a distant moon
Sparkles that want to fall in swoons
Dazzle my heart will always leaves
Autumns begin outside of Jupiter beans

Hiding electricity in panics beneath leadership

No news to look at conejo valley graduation quality

It's tough competing and completing something you can't start alone
Learning adaptive memories
Taking a student beyond the classics to New exploration of dynamics in poetry
Being friends finally in the hurts a lot way

They called the sheriff's in belief of the spirit upon me wrongfully in the library state of ownerships.  Doge time is not heard in ole yellars ears

You've been trespassed.

Sir I just asked if I could enter
We decided yes and you've been trespassed

You trespassed upon or on me sir

Your over budget in mathematics

State of California vs statements in my name of conviction
You require conviction to un trespass your soul.

Perhaps the reckoning

He will do as he is supposed of.
No sir I do not hear the commanding guide of God apparition

In the Newbury Park library lobby sometimes a wheelchair bag lady comes inside to puke into a bag in the lobby sitting area

She did in front of me and another female student.

4 years no way
Any hounds got my
Spot shined

Lend the innocence
Some rain
Ona' Wednesday

Wash the ink outta my eyes seeing use

Sea-Fever

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by.
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face and a grey dawn breaking

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the seagulls crying.

I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over

Don't let my fever return
Before your nimble yarns
Bedrooms weary
Drapes oft hanging
Leaving little lies
A heart in two
And two more as shoes
Let one and another sail the brails
Beneath her witched perfumes
Sea shanty see chanty
I worry not as diving
Nor rising moons sandy boom
Only the mid mornings spry