O Abba, hear me. A decade of fever and grease
echoed forth by wars of love onto lost Ilian wavelets,
the hammy Attican cry of a thousand hoodlums and actors.
Xanadu spilling, gowned in Olivia Newton-John and ELO,
across skin, an appeal to Ovid on Saturday night (that is, weekly),
while the OSI sends cyborgs to fight the Soviets
but never the Vietnamese.