There Are No Partial Creatures Here

I believe in measuring rods
Tokens of apprehension to the solidified course
Foregoing the conclusion, that a bet must be made
In order to meet the master in his private den of equals
There are no partial creatures here,
No scolded entry in the marketplace of conjecture
Slinging rhythm to discord with parched lights
Signing anecdotes like palm journeys
To the west of the fractured globe
To the rest of the insider’s stunted watering trove
Stone wanders to resist settling
People resist the ebb of the ceiling
Capturing their private moments and reflecting them back
To the shore with your obtuse romance,
Your battalion of parsing self-made trust
Like a bank on a small incline, where the river does not deflate
Or give up its taste for a more seasoned partner
You are only what you appear that you would be
And that is not enough for the river
If you are to achieve greatness
You must give up the dream
If you want to pardon your restlessness
You can only stretch like a clock between the seems
And tatter to the course of the honored next door