God is old fashioned.  

Grief is old fashioned.  

The world is old fashioned. 

Cosmic laws, whatever they are, 
don't do whatever they want.

disasters happen.  

What we do here matters somewhere else.

Ezra, Eliza & Euclid

Aubrey moos in blind drunk darkness

in violent perambulations

cobblestone reveries

Missed the daily service

attendance by pretty girls hath fallen

maids supply mouldy button 
sponges and 
hot english dirt water

construction sore tea

Puritan long shadows

windfarm nouvelle clutter,

The land of Jute

Beer, gin hophouse distilleries

Gabled farm yawns

whiskyplate famine harmony

One is sure Wycliff 

wanted to be a viking.