Yet Another Raft Of The Medusa (Pollard's Weakness)
      
   Alas! The Marquesas! 
 Shun the beckoning land! 
 Choose the open sea instead 
 To whatever end! 
    Took down to wondrous depths 
 Sullen we did go 
 Where shapes of unwarped primal 
 Gliding to and fro   
 Father! Willst thou pity 
 If dry're freshest cuts 
 If eyelids crack - mummified 
 Without trace of blood   
 Lord, why would thou leave us so misled? 
 How many warm hearts would cease to beat 
 In the consequence of it?