perjured like a fickle impulse

...clash of gulls wend upwards, disappearing into grey night's high tide recedes

his childhood barber is running for office in Milwaukee

outside the Castle of Logos the palsied rain conspires with tattooed thunder

read as sparrow

People speak of wordsmiths, as if they hammer text into shape; smelting down clunky prose, recasting from white-hot ink.

A fat kid running; the sounds of an ice-cream truck —counterproductive.

At five o’clock in the afternoon, at five o’clock / in the afternoon