MORAL: Spleens open in the Chin Nag. Hating: toward the whiteopants guy, the green-eyed girls Purse their thin lips, grin at his sweet fair face, Kill his long-legged lady. Brains whirl in the Chin Wag. Grating: out the long-drawn names, the clipped black mustache Munches ham-and-lettuce, tooths... Show moreMORAL: Spleens open in the Chin Nag. Hating: toward the whiteopants guy, the green-eyed girls Purse their thin lips, grin at his sweet fair face, Kill his long-legged lady. Brains whirl in the Chin Wag. Grating: out the long-drawn names, the clipped black mustache Munches ham-and-lettuce, tooths an overfull pipe, Plans his political parties. Mouths suck in the Chin Wag. Smoking: on a slim rank fag, the grey fakey fur Tilts a corn-blond head, twitches in an orange plastic chair,l Muses on the latticed vent. Chins wag in the Chin Nag. Choking: in the thick ash air, the small silly I Tastes the acid Coke, smells the scorched ground beef, Hears the shallow talk. If you want to shake the earth, Avoid the eat shop's mirth. But if to dally is your bag, Join those pink young chins that wag. Margit Livingston 15 Show less
22 77-0217t-u9o-1336-968 l The Carnival of values M K Mr. T. accompanied by a hearty round of applause. Maddog,the new manager,how holds the spotlight, and I doubt that his antics could be rivaled by darnum and Bailey. Maddog is a handsome man with the sin- gle physical flaw of a glass eye. His... Show more22 77-0217t-u9o-1336-968 l The Carnival of values M K Mr. T. accompanied by a hearty round of applause. Maddog,the new manager,how holds the spotlight, and I doubt that his antics could be rivaled by darnum and Bailey. Maddog is a handsome man with the sin- gle physical flaw of a glass eye. His particular managerial talent seems to lie in the field of personnel relations rather than merchandising. His real de- but came last fall when he began hiring temporary “Christmas help." With his glass eye on the application and the other eye checking out physical quali- fications he managed to hire for his departments a veritable harem. Maddog's latest performance was a terrific suc- cess I have been told by the girl from the wig department. The rest of the em- ployees missed it because it took place behind the locked doors of the stock— room. A talented manager, Maddog has stolen more hearts than the man on the flying trapeze. But audiences are fick- le. and when his department begins to show a deficit Maddog is bound to be replaced. Another nmn who has 'faith in the Nickel organization is Mr. K.. the store manager. He is a walking stereotype of the typical busi- nessman. fat and balding. with a cliche for every occasion. A former school teacher turned rag merchant, he appar- ently snowed sufficient mediocrity to rise quickly to the top. He appears in the store periodically to make sure destroyed my #._r~i 3—: If you like iih-charge it} I that the show goes on and to deliver his "sales-people-are-the-backbOne-of Nickel's" speech. Occasionally he talks to the “little people" just to see that we're "really on the ball" and to re- mind us that "the custoner is always rignt" but that we must "keep that mer- cnandise moving." Until a year ago Mr. K. had managed to hold the show to- gether and to keep cnaracters like Had- dog from foaming at the mouth. Then nearly two months ago an inci- dent occurred which rocked the stabili- ty of the wnole store and doubled my determination to get out. One quiet Tnursoay evening six wonen's depart- ments received calls from a bizarre fellow wno has becone known as the "Phantom Leg Biter.“ He asked for sev- eral salesgirls by name and threatened to cone and nibble on their knees.with- in twenty-four hours the store gos- sips figured out wnicn of Nickel's dis- reputable managers was the culprit. Since then he has been seen lurking in the hosiery department, eyeing the pan- ty hose. I could go on and on with incredible incidents that have occurred in the last year. but I prefer to block them from my memory. by only concern now is to get out of Nickel's before the busi- ness folds or is raided by the Minnea- polis Morals Squad. Show less
«» am he". sfia The Sundial Birthless never to remember the drooping cavern's confines or the startling sun as though squatting in a purse suddenly open tied to an empty cord bundled off on a windowless train from that human room floating floating intoxicated by the bumps and swerves but rolling... Show more«» am he". sfia The Sundial Birthless never to remember the drooping cavern's confines or the startling sun as though squatting in a purse suddenly open tied to an empty cord bundled off on a windowless train from that human room floating floating intoxicated by the bumps and swerves but rolling timeblind and giddy towards the dustwomb of impatient earth waiting unawares the crazed uneven sundial's careening shadow. The hairy nazarite squinting but unchained spreads himself like some great bird swollen oaken arms knotted fingers thrust out marblebound the haunting columns stand too wide apart short-spanned maggotmothered man awaits a hoary god's ancient rage or a weightless sparrow settling witless on the roof to bring the indifferent pillars down John Engman Emmi... ‘lL 5" , A. .' . 4 n y#___‘__- mu‘xr’dmcsrm Show less
The last Things Hear.my prayer, 0 Lord, and with thine ears consider my calling; hold not thy peace at my tears; For I am a stranger with thee and a sojourner as my fathers were. 0 Spare me a little, that I may recover my strength, before I go hence, and be no more seen. --Psalm 39 The ardent... Show moreThe last Things Hear.my prayer, 0 Lord, and with thine ears consider my calling; hold not thy peace at my tears; For I am a stranger with thee and a sojourner as my fathers were. 0 Spare me a little, that I may recover my strength, before I go hence, and be no more seen. --Psalm 39 The ardent September sun had risen in a gray mist that morning, leading two sundogs, the portents of rain, be- hind it. How the patriarchs took their places on the pink veranda of the Con- tinental and whispered maledictions of the afternoon rains all that cerulean ‘morning. The Hotel Continental had brooded over the corner of Fourth Street and Washington Avenue for as long as I could remember. In a fit of caprice the owners had painted pink the myriad Vic- torian fancies of the huge, decaying building. 0n the ceiling of the lobby, however, a shade of the Continental's vanisned elegance remained, for there, between growths of rotting plaster fo- liage, were daubed the likenesses of goddesses and cherubs clothed in rose and Ultramarine. A bacchanal could be glimpsed tnere between rows of fading Grecian wood; there sanguine Paris judged three undraped, buxom dames. It was eleven o'clock on a Friday VWIHanifloen morning wnen, from the third floor,from the rooms which had once been designat- ed "les suites grandes,“ through the urown halls, down the green stairs, and into the looby with goddesses and cher- ubs painted on the ceiling, where the neat had lulled the old men to wheezing sleep, came a long hoarse cry. The hearse came and the grandfathers whispered and nodded as the mortuary attendants carried the stretcher across the veranda and through the lobby. The chambermaid was calm enough now to lead them up the stairs to the open door. The ragged transient lay face down on the bed; his corpse had bled profusely from the moutn and nose, and the sheets were dyed with blood. Blood had set- tled in the face of the prone body so that when the attendant turned it over, the visage of the dead man was the col- or of dried rose petals and grotesquely bloated. Although the face did not ap- pear human, I, looking into that face, knew that this was how I shall be. wa it is five o‘clock in the after- noon; the autopsy is over,and the coil- ing, black cloud in the west is swal- lowing tne sun. It is silent in the soiled wnite room, for the autopsy is at last over. Une cannot remain unmoved in the presence of death, and, like an incantation, the ancient words spill out: Lord, thou hast been our refuge, from one generation to another. Before the mountains were brought forth, or even the earth and the world were made, thou art God everlasting and world without end. Now the autopsy is over, and the corpse is naked and Split open like a butcher- ed animal, like a beef carcass. Thou turnest man to destruction; again thou sayest, Come again ye children of men. For a thousand years in thy 1. Show less