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72 ✦ vladimir mayakovsky An Order to the Army of Art Brigades of old fogeys are still busy spinning their same old long-spun-out thread. Comrades! To the barricades!— the barricades of hearts and souls. The only true communist is he who’s burnt every bridge leading back. Enough of this marching, Futurists— it’s time for a leap into the future! It’s not enough to build a steam engine— you twist on some wheels and you’re gone. If a song doesn’t thunder through the station, then what’s the use of alternating current? Pile sound upon sound and move forward, singing and whistling. There are still some good letters left: R, Sha, Shcha. It’s not enough to build things in pairs, to fluff up the edges of your trouser legs. All the Sov-deps in the world can’t move armies if musicians don’t provide a march. Drag grand pianos out into the street, and hang a drum out the window! Whether it’s a drum or a piano, just make sure there’s a din— make sure there’s thunder. What’s that all about—sweating in factories, smearing your face with soot, and then, in your time off, staring blankly with dreamy eyes at other people’s luxury. Enough of halfpenny truths. Wipe everything old from your heart. Streets are our brushes. Squares, our palettes. The days of the Revolution have yet to be sung by the thousand-paged book of time. To the streets, all you Futurists, drummers, and poets! 1918 the years of upheaval ✦ 73 ...

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