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The Giant Hell of the City Windows shattered the giant hell of the city into minuscule hellikins, suckling with lights. Automobiles, the red devils, rose up, blasting their horns right in your ear. And there, under the billboard for Kerch herring— a knocked-down old fogey fumbled for his glasses and burst into tears when, in the evening whirlwind, a streetcar got a running start and flung up its pupils. In gaps between skyscrapers, where ore was blazing and the iron of trains piled up on a manhole— an airplane gave a brief shout and crashed where the wounded sun’s eye was oozing out. And only then, wadding up its blanket of streetlamps, night loved itself out, lewd and drunken, and behind the suns of streets, somewhere there hobbled, worthless to everyone, a flabby moon. 1913 the early years ✦ 45 ...

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