Dead Poets Don'T Talk Back Poem by James McLain

Mr.Poe,

Things have not changed much since last
we spoke.
Words as you said flow unheard by most
perineum stock locked at the bottom.
I apologize again for the way you did lay
initially undignified marooned in a street lost
Desire.
A cure was available simple in such vitamin B's
rifamptin other new drugs as well..sorry again
for wasting you on nought.
Death even came to a south Georgian Doctor as
well from such.
Any way your words are the bomb now that means
'good' yes I know most misunderstood we speak.
Yes' I know, they don't understand using words like
depressed psychosomatic ing brood narcissistic words
that equal your screwed...instead of just simply shy
deep thinking generously weak to a fault.
They drink like fish now get free livers of girth live in denial
do drugs you
didn't do..plus sad to say..your words would go in
the dictators vat of bleach...lol..means laughing out loud
I would talk to you more but some like them short and some
just don't care..for your verbs...
See you in a while we can take some up and comming
poetess for a spin in a horse drawn buggy..

Sincerely,
You are the man
should have met
Emily...) it(is poetry
so is she.....