The Collected Crane Archives: Hart Crane

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Windows hailing far from gently all the dawn. Or if you care to you can suspend yourself outside, feet raking up the clapboards and nothing is felt to be amiss. As I wrote Kathryn (the famous vaud-eville songster) I have slept on everything but walls and danced the gotzotzsky so much that my calves almost refuse to function. The zimbaloon at Moscowitz’s is responsible for even more, but the details involve me in lengthy convolutions. I’ve been undergoing “serious consideration” at two of the largest agencies for over three weeks. It’s a farce, this business ritual. Every few days I am called up to meet another one of the firms[“s” has line through it], and then, I am left to puzzle around while they stroke their chins together in a semi-circle. Meanwhile I, of course, explore other sources, but I’m getting very tired of it. Nothing is more exhausting than job-chasing, and pretty soon I am going to seek a subsiitute [sic] job for the summer regardless of professional dignity. Brown and I will probably take an apartment together and then I’ll quiet down and try to get back into the writing habit. (Please be very quiet about the “high-life” de-tails of this note, I have enough trouble keeping family reassured without such complications!) I see much of Stieglitz, O’Keefe, John Marin, Frank, and am soon to meet the beloved Paul Rosen-feld. My cartoon in the last Little Review has caused a little fun all around. This reminds me that I long ago meant to thank you for your poems, one the last, is particularly good, and I hope you will keep on sending them.

Affectionately,
Hart

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