James McLain Poems

Each glory hole and you Hide from them.
When one comes out, another one comes in.
The room is dark, I have been told and I am cold
how long that line that never ends, you just began.
...

Asleep I wake, between the stones.
I hear a windows, silent sneeze.
Deep inside the woods, I hide tonight.
Long shadows, of that tree, it whispers out.
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When Will It Rain.
Your face I touch, it is hot and dry.
Warm and never moist deep, down inside.
Clouds that cover dawn a window pain each
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and each bottom button is
when it is revealed can be
and is more than that some thing
one or the other had once kept hidden
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a 'Second Chance'
To see the moon rise high
and feel it's rest inside of you.
To see the hand that made
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how handsome is one toe;
to say it is,
but just to me how gentle is too stone.
and what will i give up instead and truth,
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The Woman Who Runs The Fruit Stand;
and i her enjoy
and the others at rest
are her fruit
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When I Was In That White Washed House;
of slave labor
and i was younger
than some of the rest
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i want too die a simple death;
and when i look so very deep
within your eyes i die again.
But even as you labor and i labor
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When You Became Mad I knew I was;
The world would then shut it's eyes on me.
Even I must see through you,
so tight you shut my lids,
...