Everybody's Alone With Me Poem by James McLain

I could not
do what they wanted me do
because!

I have been observed standing
on my second story deck
alone late at night pissing down below
to remind the dog's that I
live here as well.

Of course she snored, I left my scent
on there as well.
Wine can do that to people but not to me
can't stand
the stuff, though I make it pretty well.

Some of you call it a poke.
I think it's just a small brown leather sack,
with a few coins tossed into it.

Even now,
it's about what you are doing, thinking of
even if I'm not.
Though flesh covers flesh
and a few other's here would cut me down,
in the prime of my life.


There really are pink shell fish
and oysters.
I eat one raw, the other I fry.
Alone while she's asleep.