the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, through snow
toward lonesome farms in grand-father night, who thought they were
only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy, light
smalltown rain, who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston and
Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa, who disappeared
into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow
of dungarees and the blast of colossal