On an island dressing for a thousand more, on a beach at low tide walking the shore, feeling like Crusoe or the pen of Defoe the thoughts come and go like the days, and they’re speaking German which I don’t understand I want my Mother not the Fatherland. What love, A pearl from some Eastern…
Tag Archives: German
The movement
From Bauhaus to Beiderbecke records on the record deck, art hangs off the walls. I stood with Baron Munchausen in the secret garden and watched pixies while at play. It was my wish to meet Miss Gish alas it was not to be so Hollywoodland was far to grand for a famers boy and his…
