The Visible The Untrue

 Yes, I being
the terrible puppet of my dreams, shall
lavish this on you—
the dense mine of the orchid, split in two.

And the fingernails that cinch such
environs?
And what about the staunch neighbor tabulations,
with all their zest for doom?

I'm wearing badges
that cancel all your kindness.
 Forthright
I watch the silver Zeppelin
destroy the sky.
 To
stir your confidence?
To rouse what sanctions—?

The silver strophe.
.
.
 the canto
bright with myth .
.
.
 Such
distances leap landward without
evil smile.
 And, as for me.
.
.
.


The window weight throbs in its blind
partition.
 To extinguish what I have of faith.

Yes, light.
 And it is always
always, always the eternal rainbow
And it is always the day, the farewell day unkind.

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