A Way Out Poem by James McLain
A Way Out
With more and more money,
would I feel unloved.
No one man
pays attention to me.
Unloved and his head.
Crowned,
the sea full of wind.
The grass and I placed beyond.
Is this it.
Poetry and money to one.
The snowy dance I preformed
with the man without his yellow hat.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: money
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8/11/2026 1:55:09 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
