Mayakovsky

I No Longer remember who introduced me to Mayakovsky; first we sat in some cafe talking about films; later he took me to his own place, a room in the San Remo furnished apartments in Saltykov Street off the Petrovka. Shortly before I had read his book, Simple as Mooing. I had imagined him exactly as he was -tall, with a heavy jaw, eyes that were in turn sad and stern, loud, awkward, ready at any moment to start a fight - a combination of athlete and dreamer, of medieval juggler who stands on his head to pray and uncompromising iconoclast.