"Literature
is, almost by definition, an absurdity." -Sarah Ruden, translator
The
final bemusement of the fool
Is
to believe himself back transformed
Into
the soul he thinks he once was.
Some
enchanted evening, I will be
Much
stranger, not this humble servant
Nipping
flowers in the fields of the word.
He
would like to think he's amusing,
At
bottom, he believes he's lovely.
Kiss
me, I'm metamorphic. Haw haw.
Alright
then, here we are, the verses
Of
flesh vs. mind. The synaptic
Curses
the syntactic. Story time!
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