The Orator Denounces a Baudy Festival

it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
In first spring there was the march
Of the perpetual offense, whose train
Was a thousand poor, thin children in the rain
In minds stiff with new corn starch
March, march, you mixed up men
Wait for an utterance, and only then
Raise the cry! Raise it high, high
O, the thousand hungry mouths in vain
Calling out in nonsense, calling for the brain
No time to bake, boil or fry
When the real zombies rise up to be fed
They cannot tell the living from the dead.
a postscript is here written:

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