I Was Embarrassed But Relieved Poem by James McLain

There are no substitutes for lips.
And as for hands.
The turning wheel of clay colored putty.
The color determines the length of the day.
The width of the road I can't cross.
Is there a place one can stand and stay wet.
Today in Clearwater Florida.
Homless a woman,
gave up all hope and was hit by a bus.
Long slender fingers could have been at one time.
But for the rubber necks I would have then missed her.
My tongue was bound up in wire.
Transition from this to that.
Odd that the puddle around her head,
was as yellow as the sun. that some dread.