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.