James McLain Poems

Deadened; He always groaned
pace it he could feel the hot liquid to start to assemble
his stones
and to swallow his axis.
...

Always, red it was one long period of lunching with
school the next day,
observing its jump. It's face' seen is felt;
it had been, they thinking a manner or another,
...

Form is 'Terra' thus hard beginnings;
with this young person big boy hers is the bull fat
giving him a hard draft but another glass other shared
decides to give him special a \ ' feast \ ' like it/she calls.
...

around it gently
of the race in and outside its holes minor/major
and to explore some worlds deeper
concerning its interior world in it is so much stops' it breathing
...

its sensitive lobes;
its black mink closes the neck with the knees
and the high heels of black pumps,
reflect mornings luminous flood of the sun of midday of
...

its higher anterior higher mobile of legs
just so that I find it under black mink
there an' is nothing but the softest skin of silk;
the breath ever touched like X/rays' opened
...

it touches left leg off it is on lt's interior
beside the wall
my right hand the key the cross
legs it uncrosses
...

the finger
being run to the top of its moons opening taps
and taps beating palpitation
my lingum writes its slow soft major crushing
...

It's tears upon almost flat table
it is so wild in lt's distresses,
and he laughs
just in a hysterical way about it held together.
...

No hope for a free aperitif
the very hot night we met in the duet of Narco.
Sea was the night when it seemed
that half of Soho sought
...