Greens Make Me Run Poem by James McLain

lolz.............while looking in a bowl, ..you
Being the conservative that you are,
you wont argue..
wasting sun when you have wells to drill for fun..
Do I speak to her?
to she, the Tia's you think it has all along.....
it's ashes long ago stired in sires of wrong..
Would she then when ants just walked for sun...?
Would she now,
undo the song that runs all around that head,
that pushes soft brains
out side through cute little ears that hear
the wind moan long along it's mountain ridge,
thats gone!
Then it was wrong, young, full of cedars aurora scone.
It is now old and sits by the stove talking into retarded fish.
while the bubble of gold,
drifts songs along the oceans tide.
Watching all sun bathers glisten to bast in the sun to cry in blues,
once flushed in moons so buff to pay it then any attention,
pink rashes, look now! how it itches.