DEBUSSY AND PILLAGE
-a dream-
La Mer, la mer.
The crusaders have returned
from Lyons. I see them, hugging
their wives, on the trails along
the jumbled waterfront.
It’s like they never left.
Marauding as savages for three
years and more, anything they violated
they violated for God himself,
while the old humdrum wives waited,
planting tubers in the dull dead earth
or singing songs of ecstasy
in a very different note.
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