At night the hostel seemed in the middle of nowhere, casually resting against the façade of crumbling Neapolitan cliffs.  As dawn broke I saw visions of stray cats, overflowing dumpsters, scaffolding to abandoned discotheques.  I endured almost three minutes of these images before I arrived at the gate to Virgil’s tomb… Advertisements Continue reading VIRGIL’S ETIQUETTE


I never thought much about Berlin until the academic world failed me (or I failed it).  Up to that point, we—the academic world as well as I—had a relationship that others could loosely define as sadomasochistic: I thought that I could get to the core of it despite any rejection; academics had often blurred the … Continue reading THE COUCH