Here is the difference between Dante, Milton, and me. They wrote about hell and never saw the place. I wrote about Chicago after looking the town over for years and years.

Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning...proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.

She knew there was a big Chicagofar off, where all the trains ran.

I am stone and steel of your sleeping numbers;I remember all you forget.I will die as many timesas you make me over again.