Invader at McCoy

I've seen the cracked up man as he tried to hide. I've been inside the house where he used to hide. For his enemy, he would abide a rancorous scent head to toe. Dead fish clamored down to the slough. His back porch stained from perch blood. Still, he knew the crows owned this side of the river. The flight of crows was met with concomitant caws and cries. An enemy has invaded. "Almost Heaven" sanctified the enemy, invasion-intentions wrought with humid showers. The invader looped, dropped, fled.

Dead times for fish mongers, reclaimed turf for heckling Corvidae