Two tribes
One before the other one
Two cries
Of galore, one before the other one
Soon we see light
Down corridors
And open doors
Entrance from my mother's son
Ease into daylight
Into the workman's lot
Here before dawn
Here beyond dusk
Twin sights
Straight down the smoking gun
Moon nights
Curled up toes in winter’s sun
Maybe we might
Like clover come
In the hand-held plight
Of time undone
Say no more
Let us shout galore
Dolores; call for Delacroix
That’s all this time, dear boy
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