The mind is like a bat

By some flatus of causality or another, I’m simultaneously appreciative of simile and unappreciative of poetry. I happened to like this poem because it’s correct, precisely. Save for the last 2 and 4/27 lines, which I’d replace with the observation that the happiest intellection is like finding one’s way into some new cavern and joyously flapping about, discovering all its crannies and corners. (Second best is to find a tricky little passage between two familiar places.)

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About Aeoli Pera

Maybe do this later?
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