With Chasing Rabbits, Jake Wilson takes the vein of Portrait of the Artist and mainlines it with a fix of 'esoteric love' and experimentation.Fractured throughout amongst multi-leveled footnotes, the narrative follows a writer – the story itself alleged to be written by him, the character – as he's beaten down by the polluted waves of human interaction within the shallows of a party-gutter in America. A grocery list of faceless sexualliaisons and failed poetics tails him into the umbra of all-night crowds that survive only under blackout inebriation. But after slowly dying these years – persisting in every varying degree of Indulgence v. Isolation, Acquiescence v. Subversion, of which we're colorfully told – it turns out the only thing to call transcendence left for him lies in letting go, in love – even if it's a love born only on the pages of his own books: pages which begin to mirror the mind a bit too closely. . . .