The First Few Sips

Internal containment demands 
infernal restraint, aster accords
strung across the meander-font
to spell out: this is the front door.

Cord wood is sprung from its 
trees to become the future two
by fours of Theseus, a ship-
shape by any other name.

Idiomatic refraction sprays
GPT all over our chat and,
like our conversation, is 
inexplicable and mean.

Follow, deer leader, your
antlers point to where you
will meet greater spirits 
when fire makes you sky.