III. Mr. F brings the players together
Sighting at The Street Bar
On the night of the new moon
the longsuffering stars’ messages blinking, unread
Some members of the Guild met to drown their sorrow and fuel their anger through the time-honored means of expensive gin accompanied by house-made potato chips in silver dishes
they wail’d and rail’d and said the psalm ‘From where is our help to come?’
At that moment
Hepzibah and Hodegetria clattered by
on the sidewalk bricks at the edge
of the Boston Public Garden
most people ignored them, taking them for
some queer cosplay Paul Revere,
But one of the Guild raised his eyes up
from his martini and said,
Look!