An October sort of city even in the spring...
You’ll know it’s a place built out of Man’s ceaseless failure to overcome himself...
Making it the city of all cities most like Man himself – loneliest creation of this very old poor earth....
The Potawatomi were much too square. They left nothing behind but their dirty river....
We shall leave, for remembrance, one rusty iron heart....
_Nelson Algren, 1951
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