Never desire a street.
Lord, noise!
Ooh, exhaustion!
Action is a hot car.
Action is a big rain.
The faceless car loudly desires the truck.
Noise is a fast job.
Why does the street compress?
Booming, dusty drivers quickly shove a big, booming worker.
Why does the job compress?
Where is the face?
All chairs pass, chairs.
Lord, space!
Why does the truck concentrate?
----
569959
mindyourpoem.com