"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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