Three-quarters of a million Russians passed slowly, sadly, day after day last week through the Writers' Club in Moscow. On a blood-red catafalque lay the poet Vladimir Mayakovsky.
Two of the dead man's dramas were entitled respectively Bathhouse and Bedbug. As long ago as 1910, Poet Mayakovsky founded a school of poetry distinguished by the fact that its members wore canary-yellow blouses, painted their faces according to their moods, green one day, red the next, blue when blue.
When the revolution swept away the Tsar and the past, Futurist Mayakovsky appeared triumphant at Leon...
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