James McLain Poems

Standing under the roofs overhang.
Your head under the softener,
and fascia work.
As long as it rains on you, only on.
...

Open it is stealth.
And you smile, thought not high enough.
The red bird on the tree.
...

Being pimped a punk is punked by a punk.
Have you ever seen one get dicked down?
The smell of K.Y.....jelly in your cell is over whelming.
Raw the smell of spunk mens cum and ass.
...

His Smile
...

Is just a drip
from where
it comes
it matters
...

Hurry put the flap back over my head
I forget
now, more and more.
I don't like talking about that, I thought
...

I have been approached by some as to why,
as to why it may read as Shakespeare.
Emily Dickinson, Sara Teasedale, extraordinary,
etcetera, etcetera.
...

Heaven I heave at her back
sit on me
as the moon floats above I am drawn
deeply in and pushed out
...

How it makes her shudder.
He groans out as.
Shooting stars that do.
Moist the pond is often dry.
...

When I like you possess that fear,
then I perhaps.
It like you, must I like that you see.
Perhaps it's not,
...