Avocados And Rain Poem by James McLain

We like to drink after and
she likes lt hotter than the water
and her face is always soft
and peaceful
and she is my observer with access
while she spreads the soap
above the horizons rise and they tighten
wash tap wash tap briefly then:
You, this thing is not hard!
She descends again
all the hair then there she removes
my belly, the moon, the neck of the swan,
the legs of the chicken, she laughs.
while I grimace the grimace of all grimaces
and then I wash it all off.
Accessing the she-cat,
I, you we hold off around behind it,
my tap in the cheeks of that ass
which I gently soap in and out
to the top of her china chin hairs
the hairs of this she-cat from hell does well
Wash there with a calming movement
I try to delay perhaps longer than necessary
then up the backs of her legs
Such a deep wide sass,
the moment I turn,
it's back to her neck, I then squeeze it,
She cat how now I embrace
soap to the top each four quadrants
never missing the center I obtained from it
and the belly, the neck, the fronts of the legs,
the ankles, the feet, and the toe
then the she-cat,
once more for the chance to dance.
Inside
I remove it and do it so slowly and it's easy to find
and I do it as if I tried in my sleep
instead off her hand......... I shake.
The contract now closed on my house.