James McLain Poems

One call, and it is all undone.
One call, the devil comes in.
One call, one drink, the devil.
One call, is stripped canvas.
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The queen ant that took
my brains just called, she
wants to eat more, I died.
She is a nurse, thinks she.
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To dress the color still
so many, pictured pink.
Row upon row in high
thigh leather boots, are.
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Her wrack of torture knows no bounds touch ends.
In squealers, wank a stain upon the
'art of pain she grins.
Mania, biplanes, necrotic tics make
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Tickle one stomach
unstitched, boars do,
root in laughter, s play.
All is time butt treats
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Understand, that you exalt your self
falling on the sword, to slow my mind.
They are all separate, as are pages in time.
Mind, body soul, stoic psychic finds, much to dine.
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Woman, man to divorce..Dicourse of course..
The Judge ask the man..a question about her accusation,
I heard a lawyer say..your honor his body is here, but his mind
left on vacation..Judge to woman, Ma am, I think what you did
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Tunc vos may adveho.
Adveho vos may per
tergum ianua tunc vos
must licentia velociter
...