Knüppelwege

I understand nothing, you wait at the lake. Describe a single poem. Criminy, these accursed convulsions of interpretation at school before. Concepts, ideas, feelings, of course, and the quintessential head shaking. All the breaks, all the bridges. But once in a while a kind of path, who knows. Here the sound, if you will have it so, and there the form, as I want it. Goodbye, reality, welcome to your dual life. Who gives? Words are for playing. Who will stand out? Hello, language is trump. Against. Re. Who's pitted against whom?

With 54 black and white illustrations by Wolfgang Nieblich.

Further Information

Author Peter Röttscher