The Legand Of [pie] Poem by James McLain

My from I whom I curantly see her frontal.
Sideways looking at the teacher, I see.
The desk is her place her out worldly space.
She inhaled I exhaled when prudently both saw.
The grasp by the sight of the moon.
where by, I am surprised from the back section.
I long to be lass and her tongue is pulled out, it crosses the pass.
Where bye the opposite ends should I think found attract.
From which the legand of [pie] when touched is soft.
It tinkles slightly and gushes up from under the seat.
Her feet both parted eye entranced tapping, I being hers.
And made the musky mirror on the floor grow more clear.
My life in her eyes the front and is washed brightly away.
When that boring teacher the wrinkle tone comes vibrated,
trembled a voice high squeeky clean, between a bee droaned.
Her dampening the lower half of one side simultaneously
and the desk off slightly tilted.
Tension surface of exactly is small exceedingly all of a dropp of sweat.
Her name is, her name is a name like yours, I would, I should know.