Richard of York Gave Battle in Vain

Mnemonic solecisms work fine
If one really wishes to risk recalling
How music was forced to fit fire.

Horizontal bands of sunlight
Hundreds of humans high
Stripe the mountainsides,

But the weird red helicopter still hovers
In the gaps of the half-dappled sky,
And the mule at the roadside barbed-wire

Stays head down in brown grass
As the gravel trucks go by.
It's a trap to remember just why.