[to Be An Artist,] This Desire To

[to Be An Artist,] This Desire To Conquer All With Images.

Love That’s It: The Cashless Commerce. The Blanket Always Too Short. The Loose Connexion. To Search Behind The Horizon. To Brush Fallen Leaves With Four Shoes And In One’s Mind To Rub Bare Feet. To Let And Rent Hearts; Or In A Room With Shower And Mirror, In A Hired Car, Bonnet Facing The Moon, Wherever Innocence Stops And Burns Its Programme, The Word In Falsetto Sounds Different And New Each Time. Today, In Front Of A Box Office Not Yet Open, Hand In Hand Crackled The Hangdog Old Man And The Dainty Old Woman. The Film Promised Love.

We Already Have The Statistics For The Future: The Growth Percentages Of Pollution, Overpopulation, Desertification. The Future Is Already In Place.

I Did Not Volunteer For The Waffen Ss, But Was, As Were Thousands Of My Year Group, Conscripted. I Did Not Then Know As A 17-year-old That It Was A Criminal Unit. I Thought It Was An Elite Unit.

And When The Sun Goes Down And The Mood Comes Upon Me, I'll Watch The Play Of The Colors On The Water, Yield To The Fleetly Dissolving Images, And Turn Into Pure Feeling, All Soft And Nice.