drunken gash of sailor flash inept that lie in black and void of all that should be mired in the hope of another day beyond which there is no control therefore i am that scab that they flicked from their errant knees clad in ill fitting hounds tooth trousers where god said to love one another and i turned to the woman nearest and said i wish for you to forgive me for you and i come from the same place wherein fear lies lovely dark and moistened like the hair shirt rag you might use when your head evaporates. quick i say, look behind you. in the penumbral stitch. it is there. lurking.