V. strand wolf in the fog

[Lewis Zhang]

V., pp. 297

enemies that would be with him to the grave: a sun with no shape, a beach
> alien as the moon's antarctic, restless concubines in barbed wire, salt
> mists, alkaline earth, the Benguela Current that would never cease bringing
> sand to raise the harbor floor, the inertia of rock, the frailty of flesh,
> the structural unreliability of thorns; the unheard whimper of a dying
> woman; the frightening but necessary cry of the strand wolf in the fog.


Can anybody help me deconstruct this amazing piece of imagery?
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