The played plea with the strong black band;
and the bellow staff strewn splurge and blow;
and the marbled fiddle plays that weep
in diary sting sweats from their deep,
as I play the groove with bursting brow,
and stretch its bleed in the rusty land.
Then the rhyme of worn steel scented screech;
Three arrows aflame flew a far frontier;
A cap on the plane, the sick dark blast
And flutes squirt in a blighted snatch,
And a choice-less crowd, through their toys and tears,
Felt the twin hearts bleeding beach to beach.