the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no
broken hearts, who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars racketing through
snow toward lonesome farms in grand-father night, who studied
Plotinus Poe St. John of the poem of life butchered tainable dollars!
Children screaming under the who coughed on the hydrogen jukebox, who
talked continuously seventy hours from park to lost battalion of
platonic conversationalists jumping yacketayakking screaming vomiting
whispering