Bedroom Noises Poem by James McLain

It was never very late I early, fully understood.
Walking by her ponds, beneath the moon.
Out back theres my one roomed house.
I am me and she I am to afraid across the room.
There in the back section of the house is da and mia.
Where I hear them usually about none most inquire.
About bed springs and creaky bushes hollow twigs.
I respect the thing which on four legs it talks and walks.
Access with the rear I hear as well and the smell.
It front and back and does it, only when it can!
As for me, I cannot see when it is necessary,
but it originates the sound of dogs when barking.
Howls that make the sound,
as sooo to get the dry red paint it wets on me.
Because when I return from there, he hits the cat.
Momma mia of the furry squirrels, I hear them loved!

Bedroom noises never heard because of me, is never quiet.
Because those noises are insanity, they are to me not loud.
For twenty dollars I am told, but not that bold.
I see the shadows on the walls that speak of truth untold,
things that we always never do them not.
And they love the fact that you don't hear this noise.