Like any heretic who interrupts ancestral singing
For a transitory performance, a one night stand,
The bearded entertainer put his suitcase down
And cut the crowd to ribbons in the morning sun.
O sweet the sight that morning and the sound of morning blood
Spreading on the cobblestones, spreading on the air,
O sly was morning’s magic with the breast laid bare
And the entertainer smiled because the trick was good.
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