To the heart of Hammond's organ, fairground keys clink as a voice calls out, exultant ''yeah, you see this, knock three times so I know it's you.'' It's an arc that brings down the bridge, from a gate that cries a tune. That lets me through to a vessel, a fleet of youth. Tie a knot of understanding, to hear bells that are hit by tubes in excitement, rude meat brims the captain's table, crystal tears fountain from this wood.
