Aeneas narrates, chardonnay and the oddly odored cheese gesturing at eye level, and he brays on this wholesome and futile bitterness, and the vengeance that was borne of it, crackers spraying throughout:
- Blood ran in torrents, drenched was all the earth,
As gallerists and their alien helpers died!
Here were men lying quelled by bitter death
All up and down the city in their blood.1
Aeneas coordinates evacuees, grouping them by waiting and by action, and many tissues are guttered and grants are pulled, while the buses idle:
- All sleepy miners now,
projecting with eye,
reflecting on nil,
like a glimmer off a black exhausted coal vein
Aeneas dances and sculpts perceptions, and is rightly great with song:
- Virtuous pagans, we!
Hoisting the Penates and yet
drifting down the river by twos and threes
we still sparkle, shimmer and shine
1paraphrased from Posthomerica, Quintus Smyrnaeus