James McLain Poems

What kind of poet are you if you can not,
constantly move back and forth to the edge of what is so far.
God did not make that mess in your back yard.
Inverted eights or pie I won't eat because.
...

Double eclipse of the blue moon look above,
from below the blind light of.
Closer to us yesterday sped away tomorrow is.
It all came together to soon torn apart.
...

I do hope well, thank you ma am, but I am
not hungry.
I hear talk, well kinda,
it is mostly all about your sister, and what you think I should
...

I have no time to
eat snivel'its you...
Snivel me thus.
I hear no snivels.
...

I stand at watch, this dream caught.
Issued in, hers, it wiggles, in a gasp, free.
Disguised the hand, mediums, one portal.
The finger, under lip, pinker, sleeps deeper.
...

she ask ed it,
dressed in green and white,
escorting it away,
cloths taken,
...

Even i am in you, i am so cold.
You just add another coat, blanket out the
voice, of me inside you, crying.
But why?
...

It is lush, tropical, fruitful, it is never to hot it
never snows, it is always ripe, it is waiting, to
relax in between the petals, a rose so pink
weeps, the small streams trickle by on either
...

They are exposed, S.O.S., lighthouse
in the know, spinning
short words, hacked nerves,
blood guts black crusty gore.
...