Friday night, Friday Fight Night, When the horns are worn and sounded, Conch against car, parish against parish. Only the dawn brings peace to these tidy rioters Who love and leave nothing broken in the wrack. II How did we know the world would never be the same again? We had seen the rain coming towards us across the sea before, Though mainly in the morning, out of season, with a wind basking in its wake. Once we had seen a vast flock, an air force of boobies Commanded, it seemed, by a lone white gull. We had seen them break from the water, attack A whole cruise liner of Americans, cheered on by flying fish As the decks were bespattered and beshat, The bright shirts ripped and stripped, Stippled with the blood of Dakota. It was revenge, of course, for the music and the flashing, The awful voices and the thud of engines in good fishing time But it was good to see the boobies bite the complacency Off the imperial backsides out to sea.
What do You think about More For Helen Of Troy (2012)?
