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He pushed the button marked “Down.” He pushed again. The machine ignored the command. Slowly he pivoted his head back, staring up at the stainless-steel eyebrow just over the door. No movement of…
I am not I
when called to account—
plaster over, dumbly benched
the corrosive ardency
of blinkered identification.
To affirm nothing, a veil
of asymptotic bent,
prattling over-
tunes in the striated…
Biff:People are worse off than Willy Loman. Believe me. I’ve seen them!Linda:Then make Charley your father, Biff. You can’t do that, can you? I don’t say he’s a great man. Willy Loman never…