James McLain Poems

I eat the dirt, it taste like dirt
it is not the dirt, i profess it is.
It is not the sun, it is a smile
it helps me realize, it is not.
...

I stand, alone in the wind, berift, tired
and cold.
The window glazed from ice, grand
image, even grander.
...

Since we are not talking about blood, let us stop
the wast of silver in these, your last still, when
you sat for me, to have that picture taken.
...

I know, I sleep a lot,
I, blush, blush some
more, may I ask, all
of you, are familial
...

I walk, i walk into you every where i go.
I walk into every face, i look not down as i should.
Do you even see me when I walk by?
I see you wipe away a tear, i think it is mine, i run into you
...

Dear poetess, the huntress
I know you are probably male, so i know,
you know, i have issues with males..
Sometimes i have issues with females to, rarely.
...

The little wooden horse you gave me, when I
came home from hospital.
I watch you through the window, in your smock, planting
a new garden.
...