One Womans Find Poem by James McLain
One Womans Find
Again it is existentially diminished it's trail
being as Ursala, phenomenally unbalanced to find
a way, without pheromones tail of spears.
These hers, it's trail mixed with other crumbs, one
tired ant tries to climb up her clean window, in need of
more than the six other feet,
it left behind, on some marble twin sleds.
Still grace is grace, as you watch, smiling glad you are
not it, some maniacal ant loyal to Regina having few
rumbas we her loyal subjects taste the known scent of
these it's intertwined kamikaze missions.
Still amazingly amused, a muse or not, the ant has more than
a few pens left in it's small heavenly, is it's endowed
pin filled mind, as it draggs the whole hog into the hole.
Sometimes I think I know what you're trying to say, but then I realize I don't have a clue! A word of caution, whoever you are in the Bowery Poets Club, learn some basic skills in poetry! No matter what some of these schmucks on this site say, you gotta have a good grasp of the language and some kowledge of basic poetic techniques to write a half-way decent poem! Good fortune, sirrah!
Very busy and hungry little ants I think. Great mind bending poem here. God Bless, Linda
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/24/2025 5:25:43 AM # 1.0.0
ive been reading your poems i like them i just havent been on in a while i really like this you should keep on writing mabey it will inspire me more than you already have