courier

Purer than the fresh spiked junkie, caged
can heaven to;
distressed gold bags of glycerin and smelted
poppy chills,
(wine frees the dour Eucharist.)
Sarcastic dropper squeeze
and tidy ebb;
Love would not glorious is
a spider web.

Look for combinations in a settled water drop
for flags along the straight sea's edge . . .
come see how Autumn violates the spectrum
with her glue.
(the sky a bell jar just as well)
Where are they every rushing to?

Grey fountains fan medieval in restrained trajections
torn into sphere'd halo threads
are atomized below : the prickled pool;
and dear old Butterpro! turned ecclesiastic with his knife
there adds a serif, trims the heavy weighted moon;
and want for honesty? . . . this is my Courier!

Yon handle heavy topped in glass, reflexes:
here stare gaunt cheek bones wreathed in chin.
Yours but cannot in two places solve humanity:
- one steams in the winter crow-call myrtle,
rang a far off gun
- the other debtless in an unforgiven afternoon
of truth;

What scratches proud fretting narrarations,
what balances the keys, the combinations
who digs a hole into the waves: mythology
(laceless footed toes in twilight sleep, anon)
yet still no pulse.
The Very-lock is realer than the sun.