National Poetry Month, Day 9
Submitted by Aaron Landcastle
ah oh let me love you
let me be the first to mourn
on an ennui tomb
in your proud red summer later
whilst the frolic ends
ah or have you sprawled over the midst
telling me less mangy at first
your prayer
besides
I am where the light goes
the stuff it ebbed my sigh
true my days caged foxing up a hole
oh caring this an that
for sheer obedience
for the laughter hence my laughter
in a thicket of breath
breathing my airs of impulse
hair twiggy in the frozen thump
for I am oh so
not for whipping out a lute
also freakish with a bone
I must’ve lost that lute in a bone wager
gambling all
black as stench
in the faroff your nose is lost
fish-eye beyond me my heavenly Williams looks
he’ll shave a copper spoon for right
and place that suck
near his bosom shine bloody
whoever who shall watch him prove
who dies will
let the light burst in through the dark oak dampy doorwell
and the shadows flitter up the beams
chasing you
seeming to melt that old precious old room into us
nude upon a hush
ah hark
I demand a poisoned summer
Poem of the Month 
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