give us your rubble give us
your fallen columns & your
beaches give us your wine-dark
blood & your fated old women
tossed like doves' divining entrails
to the street.
give the haunches of your muses
to our grinning usurers. they will
usurer them good.
you began this satyr play
3,000 years ago. now your ships
are lost & your wanderers
will never find their home.
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