Shut Up Is Language Sinking My Ship So Is A Dry Sea.. Poem by James McLain

Voices
through my eye
nerveless train
you run on my brain
shameless wench.

I learned the word
from a women
unlearned in
Versailles lived
unparodied in lost cave
spelunking ly crazed.

Locale door of mind
found is big
shut-up
she will come dwell
yell cowards run
jars of witless swells.

Dreading spreading tails
are cats
rumored whispers
laydied in wait of
lika proper
ladfie may appear
lost arts walled in tears
bye the bye wenched years
tell it to my hand) it(s yours.................