Digging In My Trash Poem by James McLain

Dear: what did you find
all you lovelies,

Such sick little minds that you have in your
head make me blush.
Such is the nature of the sneaky hand that
roams for pleasure
while i sleep.
Did you not think i would not know of the
honey gone from my pole o you
thief of the night in your
cave may i dwell all
your days.
The mountainous pears with the buttons
the buds spray my face with
the nectar of age thats
called milk..
Dripping face i must flee to your cave where
i dwell all your days in feast may i lay..
Lovingly in you always...