Self Promotion Poem by James McLain

Politicians watch through the window of dawn
liars and haters, nay sayers
people whom love what they do
hidding in the dark here not wanting
to be seen
as I take their pictures to help get things done
rubbing yellow butter around on my breasts
hypocrites my Godly mother once knew
licking green grease
off their fat swollen legs
the pictures prove that I'm taking it all in
lying down
skin tight right up to the trees, dirty I feel inside
on red bruised knees
while all of those soft lights
cast a glow as sweat beads on their heads
form in the middle of their
thick fat red necks
eyes from they whom have paid to watch me
a show while she smiling tells
them about
why it is that they each night come for
the moon might be full
inbetween each of my acts
by the way one acts
as though such behavior I brought home
to him
as up and down the pole they scream for
while I dance some of them struggle
to touch my ooohh and my aaahh
steamy and hot the bodied warmth of so many
fogs up the mirror in my dressing room
slipping out back
to where it is that I wait
for my daddy to take me home.