I, Really Do, Can You? Poem by James McLain

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.
The men, most hate me, Edgeless ego, child they find.
Tell me, flies come to honey, I would eat the honey..I am dumb..
Religious Helot, pearls and swine, which..sadly, I am..to reply..
I think every flying pink pig, ....must have...
should have just one pair of pink pearls to try.
So Mary, fed me milk and wept..