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Diablerie, v. 1, issue 3, March 1944
Page 8
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8 THE FAN the grinding heat suffices; the cool hall echoes with sweat and walk and laughter and puzzlement; the black balls rolling into clinking gutters (shouts of down on no. three kid weary arms lifting huge rounded slivers they go down repeat); the yellow starched uniforms dispensing cheap delight in paper cups. release into the air outside: laughter of puppylove theorems universes forgotten; impersonal tenseness scared of the ground when you hit it take your helmet off nice run guy; the laving coolness of midnight home straight to bed uncontrollable shivering thirty-seven lines tonight; sit down from weariness watch late comers from clarkgable lanaturner epics happily order. the overloaded racks smelling pulp covers great new novel bright cover you magazine stinks letters sciencefiction in corner puzzled newsman watching mass buying by few stuffed into jackets sneaked in writing letters humming typewriter to editor reality eternity time nothing. (outside stars blink down through atmosphere from distance long seeing eternal straight from someplace straight to your heart) inside cheap print crude appeal frenzied reading philosophies sighted analyzed then a soul. -Ray Karden [image]
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8 THE FAN the grinding heat suffices; the cool hall echoes with sweat and walk and laughter and puzzlement; the black balls rolling into clinking gutters (shouts of down on no. three kid weary arms lifting huge rounded slivers they go down repeat); the yellow starched uniforms dispensing cheap delight in paper cups. release into the air outside: laughter of puppylove theorems universes forgotten; impersonal tenseness scared of the ground when you hit it take your helmet off nice run guy; the laving coolness of midnight home straight to bed uncontrollable shivering thirty-seven lines tonight; sit down from weariness watch late comers from clarkgable lanaturner epics happily order. the overloaded racks smelling pulp covers great new novel bright cover you magazine stinks letters sciencefiction in corner puzzled newsman watching mass buying by few stuffed into jackets sneaked in writing letters humming typewriter to editor reality eternity time nothing. (outside stars blink down through atmosphere from distance long seeing eternal straight from someplace straight to your heart) inside cheap print crude appeal frenzied reading philosophies sighted analyzed then a soul. -Ray Karden [image]
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