We have been up all night,
my friends and I, discussing right up to the limits of logic and scrawling the paper with demented writing, with strange things – things thousands of miles away, things hidden behind walls and within rooms, things dangerous to come to…
Our hearts filled with an immense pride, standing quite alone, like the sentinels in an outpost facing the army of enemy stars – eyewitnesses to great events that will never happen, that will happen in spite of us, that will happen at our hands.
We have been up all night, my friends and I – drunkards beating our wings against the walls.
Corrupted and stolen from
H Luce (1936) and F T Marinetti (1909).
Serial & Magazine