““AFTER MAYAKOVKSY by Denis Johnson It's after one. You're probably alone. All night the moon rings like a telephone in an empty booth above our separateness. Now is the hour one answers. I am home. Hello, my heart, my God, my President, my darling: I'm alarmed by the alarm clock's iridescent face, hung like a charm from darkness's fat ear. This accident that was my life will have its witnesses: now, while the world lies wholly motionless and sorry in a crapulence of stars, now is the hour one rises to address the ages and history and the universe: I swear you'll never see my face again.””
