Today's poem is by A.E. Stallings
Achilles
Ach! Ill ease,
All ails his sake,
All hail his clash.
Ask his likes:
He lacks his lass,
Alas, his law, his
Clause is causehe
Slashes, slays, sacks,
Classes his kills
As skills: He slices clay, he
Seals his lease. I call
His kisses alkali,
His sex, silk ashes.
He's classical, his ilk:
I see his case, his heel,
Sick as lilies.
He chases a shale sill,
Hell's chilly hall
Shaky isles hazy
As Hellaskeels, cauls.
Ice slakes his cells.
As lilacs cease,
His ache heals all.
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Copyright © 2022 A.E. Stallings All rights reserved
from The Georgia Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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