The Sage Belongs To The Same Obsolete

Nostalgia Keeps Dissolving The Ironic Narratives In Which I Have Contained My Past.

Belief Forages, Moving From Pasture To Pasture.

My Love Grows Wide And Shallow In An Effort To Spread My Losses.

Sexual Attraction Makes The Strangest Bedfellows Of All.

When Appearance And Reality Coincide, Philosophy And Literary Criticism Find Themselves With Nothing To Say.