James McLain Poems

Cotton mouth...this word...
renders..some..
southern condition....
and ripe sweet breath...
...

My exwife because she can, Judge Neil he said.
Hernando county Florida, where once I lived.
Janna Burns she is dead,
one self inflicked gun shot wound to the head.
...

.......... with each gentle squeeze
grows plain moss brown or green
and she would only me too know it
how i love the rose and windy days
...

and the toe above me, it rattles,
shakes and rolls me off like rain.
and each new outline and warm
imprint left within is you too view.
...

and parting two leaves; them longing.
wild oats what they feel, when i watch.
and gentle each breeze, it starts them.
while stalks tremble and flutter apart.
...

You are not a nun; on off to bed
and they can not understand you
and if they did, they would have
taught you to just go and be careful.
...

One lazy summer night,
I checked into a sketchy highway-side motel.
The night was warm and moist,
And the moon was full.
...

Your face I touch, it is hot and dry
Warm and ever moist deep, down inside
Clouds that cover dawn a face withdrawn
Weeping in view, my finger circles drew
...