Crrrraaash!
Cymbal-clap.
Calamity Brass Band's opus opens upon ruin:
Moonshine Maid;
her houses split, splayed and slain;
crushed coach agroan, aflame;
heavy hush...comes the rain.

Crrrraaack!
Broke-back glass lass.
Moonlight March of the Weeping Wounds:
besotto voce, a tripping drip.
"-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-."
[Crashendo to soused soreliloquoy]
"Languid is limb; bodice is hearse.
It sops leak, the grass below does sip so."
[and also:]
"Language is limp; body, it hurts.
Atop sleep a crass bellow does tip-toe."
[then together:]
"Come, Hero!"
Alarum bella: Donna Luna.
We daffy dance, somnambulance.
Our midnight metier, what bold boys crave:
something to slay, someone to save.
A high light so splits the night:
Glory insatiate.
The sky spills seraph in blood-thirst and flight.
Hellion, try speech.
Walk on kissed feet.
Forgive God's greed.
Quit sleep, save me.