His Peices They Ate Poem by James McLain

Mikael, making picture messes always.
They come onto every thing oshes around
you now, the mirrors make them worse.
Even in death they grow lame riding the
man who's smile they could not touch except
when cold meets the sun it's mask forced into
and onto you always again.
Government man sciences mean economics dream
of one man shows bathing in green so thus
forced cuts of primes pure beef energized as sun.
When you moved the moons of women whom ran the
men behind it's show..they grind now on they there men
to make you up once again..into there frosty heavanlys...
moons must run in gushing rushing flows from the star
that you are all over again...into the hers the stain..
that fills there voids..it is just so sorry..mikael...
Res-erected it seems so it must again..Venus rules Mars
mentality mobs the smile while rubbing the comets tail..