Queen Of The Moon Poem by James McLain

Each full moon Li Po,
pink pearls flowers deep in the well.
Down by the city that sleeps.

Looking up at it it seems mere inches
from my face.
My desire washes your face my love,
of wine
and your hand stretches me out piano blues.

Remember dangerous minds,
is this your secret too lost children today
have a care one day in their hands.

Li Po in the valley of hope tonight said.
When she comes,
bending over it beats and it burns
the first time.
Queen of the moon unkempt I bath in the stream
over whelmed, by the smell in the air.