The Lonely Philoligist

the lonely philologist

in place of feelings, topology.
Transformations hidden or misremembered. A landscape, formed from the
horizon-the literal one, the one always out of reach.

Now we enter the longest leg of our journey. No virgil, no dante, no
anchises to guide.

But the rails run straight. And the timetable, which long ago
standardized, well, no need to tell you that.

Clause consecutive or final, none the less. Some distinctions are only
made by the lonely philologist.