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Forty-First Floor

stranger in a strange city peers out from a glass pane of a forty-first floor hotel room down at a busy evening avenue; neon-lit, the world below seems to pulsate in every direction, throbbing, vibrating in a motorized frenzy of means and of ends, same everywhere as anywhere, the ultimate purpose, it seems, is still somewhere near nowhere.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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