DIE BESTEN GEDICHTE DES
I had my camera and took the shot through the shop window.
And a rather tall, ugly lady, neck bent forward, ran out of the shop.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “What did you photograph?”
“I photographed the naked manikin,” I told her.
“I’d rather you didn’t take anymore photos,” she said.
“Alright,” I said and I walked down the street with my camera, with her starring after me.
I felt guilty and upset, even though I had done nothing really improper.
It usually happened to me at least once a day.
I turned, dropped to one knee, focused and photographed her.
She waved her arms and screamed, and I shot her again!
The trouble with these people is, that their cities have never
been bombed, and their mothers have never been told to