Archetypes

Next Sunday look at
Spider jukebox sands of
Swinging square and
In precision all the
Make-ready housed in
Inhibition cupboard
Roused his vital
Floating pure feeling
Wouldn’t be many
Names appalled out
Of the faces of
Archetypes
Dim-lit in their
Great day of
The feast harrowing
Hymnal can suppress
Their imprecision
On the other
Hand their sleep-welt
World of phyllotaxis
Commonplace
In English style and
Manner floating the
Horses and their
Manes in the realm
Wouldn’t tame
Him happenstance
Nor red-brown in
Their accuracy and
Seclusion out of
The faces of
Archetypes
Hinged after
Dinner blood
And bones
As slot-closed
In completion.

Pristine

Make force ready
Peace formidable and
Glistering ship sincere
Smeared enough to
Be sanctified pristine
In his virtue without
Pause in this withering
Quicker than his dish
Has chosen to make forever
Ready to reflect his true
Accounts pristine in
Their virtue sanctified
By second hoyer so
Plainly had he worked
Worth having to make
Earth ready head spent
Upon the nightstand
On the basis of
His eternal music
Perfect polygon
Generally
Pristine in
Its treasure
Trove of its own
Distinction had he
Not toward him
Only so much of
His hiring with their
Collars run up on
Twenty-nine masters
Of ornament
And beauty.

Altair

Country of the passenger
Pallor composed of
These grids of blue
Oratory in the
Shrouded turning
Heavens
Walking through highest
Kitchen fossil
Blackness depth
From yokes of iron
Rescues the sure
Enough the trusted
Resemblance the
Semblance of order
From chaos from
The best thing of
No importance
In which his final known
Singing widow world
Of blue heaven sphere
Flickering green
Blue human born of
Native planet
Shorn of heavenly
Metal stanchions
Altair looms above
Him funneled
Lithe and shaking
Huge decipher sphere
Up and let us be
The ceiling of
Dimensions dark
Or lightness
They may
Be.