I implore clarity on last time. No noose replies. Sinuous furlongs of
ocean light chitter one to another in the livid estuary. Correlatives
sink. Flensed bodies of seals sink faster, into sand. Think of the gulls as
morticians.

A small card encountered at a bookstore, crimson upon crimson so that
the card itself appears blank except for color, the skin of it.

Row houses, hunched up in that place like a New England far from
home, that is, bigger than they should be. Sterile. As salt spray. And like
moniker no firmer. Residual bay voltage. A flotilla of creosote.

Six wooden spools when last I checked. Slow pumice shortage. Double
agent! Selling a daughter's school collages at a yard sale.

To be approached by the beast. And let us say the beast is hungry. And
let us say the beast is rabid. And let us say the beast is blind—