James McLain Poems

Brown twin peaks through her valley I walk,
waiting I waite for the moon to rise.
The red rose is high it is certain
to raise her white flag my silk curtain.
...

Some of our tears here there are many pretenders
times of joy where you are.
Many needy children you have none where you are
I am not always here.
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Wherever
I roam in your soul
I roam inside of your head
magic box
...

Chrome wheel packages.
Someone's dirty little-known secret.
You thought-provokinglyless
behind-the-scenes it's said.
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It holds no interracial claim to our bodies.
Ghosts can not tell you the time.
Even the dead through the window
they climbed on their own.
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If I have to read another's God poem
I think I will puke.
To guddy goody good two shoes
I mean no disrespect nor responsible be.
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Just the name makes us laugh,
giving it away with the first name.
Taking joy from such a game,
is the second trick the first is I suspect.
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Is not the same.
Is your green silk dress the same,
as your red one?
Are brown eyes blue.
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It is pouring over the edge.
Running up hill instead of down.
Slow then faster, fast.
I can't replace the smile on your face at that.
...

In a box in the closet.
Last night my cat had two kittens.
Easier said than done.
The little-known girl down stairs.
...