A Clear Patch Of Dampness There Between Poem by James McLain

And so we speak amongst us each other of sheer panties,
open windows the hot sun and boxer's and twisted thongs and american idols like Justin beavers many ponds.

Debating which is clear and those the few when luscious lips red bursting out at school the worst, and fretting all day long the song I hum hearing the others they buzz.

Alone, along the day grows shorter still untill night comes.
Afraid we'll make some choices that are absolutely my love for him is strong.

So do we the us in these short skirts risk a line of dampness in between when bending it running over it all.
Bending over and over when will he of me notice.
In the house that holds mirrors high on the walls I can never see.
And eating raw oysters and using hot sauce.