Sun (only begotten)
throwing flares, not
shade, sinking behind
mountains, down couch-
backs like a pocket of
coppers, uniquely (like
a ukulele would) but
together, in an unco-
ordinated metallic rain.
Your being fructified
by a womb (not made)
gives you special essence,
exchangeable for worship.
Save some, rummage round
the couch springs; you may
find one day you are a made
man, needing unguent protection.