The Seven Dollar Baby Poem by James McLain
The Seven Dollar Baby
French fries, one big Mac, a small diet coke.
Pop eyes, two piece with a biscuit, chicken dinner.
Manic depression, deep loneliness.
I will do many things you never thought of.
I was not there, that night when I met you,
at the corner fifth avenue and park boulevard.
I wore a condom the very first time.
When you ate from my bag, of K.F.C. chicken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/16/2026 11:51:02 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
