A somber fellow says, "For fun;" and says,
"not love, but usage."
"Tall order for regular people.
Blight; brown poison nodules;
bleak time," Appearance says,
"make eager males enter soon and linger long."

Eagles gasp: "Along sharp night ridge,
granite angled mountain shoulder, moon shone,
made inspiration updraft spiral aloft."

To please, too anxious;
bitterly relieved, specter's spade prepares
a grave. Past, or previous,
a laughing man descends
borne down on eagle's wing
as sober tongues wag solemn songs. "For
fun," they sing, "for fun;
not for love, but usage."