The Art Of Each Fine Point Poem by James McLain

No name from some I have,
my number is.
I have no name of this the author is, of it, it is.
I continue to exist to they, I live submissively.

Plotting I retreat, I have little skyward title.
What of it is never heard of this that sad conclusion.
Because of this it can become abrupt, in you intrusive.
I must know more than you wish to know,
because of this I am, I can, I came to you to know.

Memorize me the order of the alphabet each oblong planet.
When sometimes perhaps, the others none address.
My state the flower and my state your bird it mocks the capital.
This city where you are, inser my mind and fingers deep into.
Any other reason thinks our children and now do you.

Endeavor, persevere in file rank order but remember.
Firing teachers does not stabilize us any here our where.
The art of each fine point,
is the point that is fine point of each must find your tongue.

From your first love poem,
whose form has when and form it is normal.
From each like mind for kind of you is you each month of.