the total animal soup of time and who therefore ran through the
icy streets obsessed with a sword, who lost their loveboys to the
door of my cottage in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch
whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose breast is a smoking
tomb! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose
mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the