'Oh Dad' - Poem by James McLain
'oh dad' with your pink of fingers
with from which whoms udders you drink?
Thy milk 'oh' it runs by each sunny face moved
around the lips embraced.
Milk-thus to me dad, milk to me now!
And thus i look at transfixed clear glass with half full
with the juice in sweat, daisy absorbed so much quickly
each fall that i lick,
swallow with hard around the basin, once completely.
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