Full text: The little review (12 (1926), 1)

S IREN SCREECH—conceived in space a point given 
inward outward rotation—whistles—types febrile 
diagonals plus ambiguous luminosity—whistles—left 
right, right left, ensnares intersecting convoluted cir 
cles, propels incidental enchanted ellipses—whistles— 
whistles—thrusts ever hungry edges to the moon—narrower 
wider, wider narrower—one to three rectilinears to this— 
whistles—youth destitute of papes, flames from flower tested 
puberty enchained by manifest doubts in milky adolescence, 
farewell youth—ave atque vale—youth 
Speed—Cinema extra—Ordinaire—whirring entrails snap 
slide backwards, buzzing genitals, incidental short circuits— 
Speed—Speed—minus burnt celluloid click click—minus 
barber chair dentist fussing brittle teeth 
Smoke into the metallic mauve metropolis—New York— 
quit ta reve—New—York—by and for steam whistling, mill 
churning, trip hammering, rivet retching, piston plying, bell 
sounding, electric lightening—blue, red, green, red, blue, 
green,—Yellow—X—raying, water flushing, radio sparking, 
areoplaning grey hesistancies in continuous repeditive leap 
frog through revolving brass glass doors to rainbow smooth 
planes—not to taste purple retrospective ashes—with thumb 
and index press button to switch out, on, out—city collapses, 
an English aluminum picnic cup, But walls a gas grated 
mechanical piano room scents a subway elevated street car 
odor—insistent telephone, eye reflected from an eye—Oeil 
poisson mort—in a mirror—feel furtive coins, insistent tele 
phone, go again 
Leap into hat and cane—paint an ivory watch chain on this 
Ego’s chest, go once again shadow somersaulting awkward 
automaton—play blind man’s buff with fluttering taxicabs, 
hear a crass mucker telescoped in a motor horn shout— 
“Where’s yuh pants?”—fix shell rims to ogle roller skating 
straw virgins moving upper lips in petulant rabbit munches 
—Waltz—waltz down the avenue—let psychoanalytical 
sychophants search the sun for scars—waltz on to tea—leave 
green waistcoated messenger boys with tulips bound in their 
hair riding gold velocipides through an arch for tea talk 

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