One Of Three Times Three Squared By Three I Am Just One Poem by James McLain

Hunting shirts previously worn without my say
blisters to the soul reaching out shrived arm
finger broken in nose there to stay.
Hefty are my parts that grow when I sleep
small is the mind pulling covers to peak on
thier find.
Graticule proximate motion laminae strikes
to the soul of the chase up your cave eating
poo.
Unloosed with a noodle filled with oodles
that dribble without cake never to date with
out hate.
Unto me gracious being IRS tax return never sea
without asking a pardon employed unengaged
destination never reached you keeping paying.
Perpetrators...twerp the birds..seeds early dawn.