an echo down the branch
of his left arm
expunged
with sterile prognostication
he cassocked  his way
past the rambling
into the entryway of marble and granite
learned gentlemen applied thumbscrews
and deforestation
to his country land
his sweat burned a hole in the floor
and he crept through the ceiling vents
and escaped in 73 Corolla
he was a lemon
but his car wasn't