Monday, August 10—2:43pm, AD 1616 Port side bow I saw the thing retching inside a damned being. Stirring my fiery drunken soul, down into the sea it goes, and when it illudes to surface again it comes singing—loud as a wren. Shoot the spears, but nothing connects, and question my aim be correct. Sounding loud,… Continue reading Monday, August 10—2:43pm, AD 1616