By Her Own Emissions Poem by James McLain

I became full of more than fear when it happened.
and political correctness
with this in the news almost daily
The chalk board flat at my back
Only seven feet seperated her chair from me
the subject material seemed to bore her
eyes glazing more at my thoughts
teaching class watching snap dragons
bloom in the chairs.

Then I saw the middle of her thin white panties
dry they were clear
growing moist
not quite wet dreaming of, I am sure
of him.

The knott in my back,
and her arms and legs I was told are sore.
Just as well,
each day is the same
putting her through the paces
yesterday's gone, afternoons here
and I will never receive
any mercy I know.

And by her own emissions
their dry
clung mixed inner thigh
and her mound
was of dry fine hair
had I such a core, had she caught my eye
still it throbbed in my mind quite dully.