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.