Why, there's Crag, towing the moon through the sky! He's heading for the
Nubian Gates, where he'll park the gigantic orb in a barn and refill it
with celestial energy so it can glow tomorrow night.

 

The towering barn-orb. Barnorb? Bron-rab, the Barn Orb? Here's a will-of-
the-wisp that visits barns in the English countryside on certain October
nights. When the sickle moon sails over the motionless stacks of sickles.

 

Can you follow the threadless dissertations? Or does your intellect
desert you on these fallow nights? My goal simply to haul in fish from
the depths and spill them flopping & slapping on the decks of sex, to see
what strange and awful fish we haul up in the trawler nets.