The Little Review, October 1915 (Vol. 2, No. 7)

In this daring opening to the October 1915 issue of The Little Review, Ben Hecht plunges listeners into a night‑filled reverie that feels both intimate and monumental. His lyrical prose treats darkness as a lover, weaving silk‑thin metaphors of black wings, sorrowful kisses, and ancient fires. The language swells with a theatrical cadence, inviting you to feel the pulse of longing and the restless taste of eternity. As the poem progresses, the night transforms, hinting at an inevitable twilight where hope and despair entwine.

The companion piece, “Sleep Song,” drifts into a surreal field of black flowers and phantom shapes, where daylight becomes a relentless white monster that chases the speaker’s grief. Hecht’s vivid imagery—purple veins like worms, a white‑breathed bird bearing sorrow—creates a dreamscape that feels both haunting and oddly beautiful. Listeners are drawn into a chase through night and day, experiencing the tension between concealment and exposure. The piece ends on a breathless note, leaving the journey’s outcome just beyond reach.