the ghostly clothes of jazz in the long streets like endless
Jehovahs! Moloch whose name is the specter of genius! Moloch whose eyes
are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose factories Moloch whose
buildings are judgment! Moloch whose eyes are a thousand years. What
sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up
their brains and imagination? Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness!
Ashcans and unob stairways! Boys sobbing