Milk The Cows Poem by James McLain

She was talking about
or where they both were going with out this.
Can you get more randomless?
What kind open line is this for conversation?
I stood up, not being keen on her talking now.

I want you to milk the cows out there, not me!

Opened eye that always bulged.
Okay, with that the others here that were,
closing, open hands but never still.

Come here, hold on...there all alone.
Look there's no one here to see.
The wind a breathless whispers, Me.'

When you were always on your back and sick!
I would do that but in thought to you.
The cow now trained.
Closed eyes on me.
Are you afraid that you might coming there enjoy it?
Or that you don't now want to touch and move
them brown those dreamy eyes?

His eyes were unwillingly drawn to the pink semicircle
that resided beneath her open hand.
Below the warm large white stomach.
He shuddered at the thought.
CONSIDERING touching udders, of squeezing them...

He shoved her disturbing mental image out of his head.
And then she always toothy smiling said.

There open lays the market, come lets go!