The Grey Men Dance in a Circle.
                 
              She did not rouse
                               She always flew
         until there was flame,
                               when there was storm
            her struggle soft -
                               and he was asleep -
           brown wicking at the
                               ale phlegm at the
                 finger's edge.
                               nostril's rim.

               The Cold Men Dance in a Circle.

            She hummed of fire.
                               She laughed at horns.
              Once a spark rose
                               Once a preacher
           in the secret place.
                               vanished in the wood.
            She breathed it in.
                               She kept his hat.
          Crackle of his mercy.
                               Devil take the hindmost.

              The Stuffed Men Dance in a Circle.

         Limp against the rope,
                               Humming at the crossroads,
          a smooth black blank,
                               a blank yellow eye,
          madonna of the rats -
                               plough drawn by toads -
    she dreamed the town afire,
                               she dreamed the town afire,
     a storm of red sovereigns.
                               her scream a blink of light.

               The Good Men Dance in a Circle.

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