« Moving over the hills, crossing the irrigation
canals perfect and profuse in the mountains the
streams of women and men walking under the high-
tension wires over the brown hills
in the multiple world of the fly’s
multiple eye the songs they go to hear on
this occasion are no one’s own
Needle’s eye needle eye but in the ravine
again and again on the massive spike the song
clangs
as the tremendous volume of the music takes
over obscured by their long hair they seem
to be mourning »