James McLain Poems

It is wide
not that wide
it is white
and looks like snow
...

Like the dog being tied to it,
inside my baby-sitter, I was stacked.
Returning to her the full basket,
wherein is her methods.
...

A sad poem for me could be, such as this one;


Looking around, to where I am and how are you?
...

Learning where to walk the dog, walks me.
Which is more eccentric wearing shoes.
Compelled by an oppressive chihuahua.
Knitting me the strangest looking socks.
...

Deep see hers is each forbidden heart
Dull eyes i remember all,
But no emotion -shown by they,
and call i don't, i waist no time.
...

Your shame is that I wear it aught—to be Alive.
Knowing what I know — Man, 'I am the child.
But could I envy— you that I must trust.
This sack of soil and it's dust full each bag—
...

Is this this your young girl today?
The pants keep getting tighter,
the shirts are yellow brighter.
The shirts have mature things painted on them.
...

How long I wait
out there to see your long face
each day and each day I come back
treading water it coming, it going out
...

and if i do
and if i come out
once more into the moon light
and seeing that
...

When by my fears, I have.
Like you.
Tears they fall, against my cut
and callused open sunday palm,
...