I watched him struggle with the sea
I was nine-tenths of the way through shoveling my mother's driveway before it occurred to me that the flat-bladed gardening implement which I had been using to rowel up the frozen underlayer of slush from which the shovel just skidded off—it reminded me of a whaler's cutting spade—was conceivably some kind of hoe. I cannot tell if this means I will never have to settle my debts with Poseidon or if I have just incurred Demeter's eternal disappointment.

no subject
no subject
It is true that it is not a tension I especially worry about.