Lucas

When the peach was bruised,
Worms in apples, or pistachios,
The day was rainy,
The rooster an early riser,
It was Lucas' fault.
A dead Lucas was a salty farm.
A bright Lucas, sweaty midnight.

Slipping into the tub
His knees up, head submerged
Lucas screamed
In mermaid languages, cursing
Pale in chalky water.
A spicy Lucas, the definite apple core.
A childhood Lucas was an apathetic mountain.

Tell Lucas and he knew it.
The chalkboard was his master
and he wore its dust.
A mime, he tickled the sunset.
With a climbing silhouette
A round Lucas was a starving chicken hawk.
A quiet Lucas was a supernova word head.