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Two St. Peters burgs I. Russia The statue turned upon a chain; beneath its broken knees were thirty feet of air. Under its sway of handwide eye stood, ludicrous, a pedestal with only feet on top. And under that ranged real but little people, tiny uprightnesses, all abruptly free. Freely they milled, collectively buzzed. They feuded over food, they fell in love anew, had words anew, had different differences than heretofore. The differences were free to spread; an air of half-lights made for deep misgivings in the minds of brand-new sunshade salesmen . . . II. Florida The desk clerk's disposition is professionally sunny. In the waterbed room I ask to be tied up, but nicely; you know nooses that release. Detachment has apartments and attachment has departments. We can order long and cool, or quick and hot. Or quick and cool or long and hot. But can we do the longer haul together? Keep the living daylights ever-loving? Kill the cough? For broken is a place where something gave; a joint's 4i a place where something moved. And eloquent is just a mess of hinge and sign: a MO where the TEL is not yet fallen off . . . 42 ...

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