memonistries of kinderhinter

ein gedannkinkith:
truth is, when i was just a
tyke,
our neighborhood was split,
every
year,
one side hurled rocks at the other:
every year,
but one year,
i was wounded, blood
buds
fair:

gevorsten my kachen stacken:
ein
biere du wackenstein:
and it was sweet, the generous
smiles
of young lasses who thought i talked too
much,
one was rather lewd and wanted to dance,
the
other was a prudish princess,
always sick, always acing the
class.
Perhaps if i had listened to her sickness,
i
would have understood,
but i was under the influence,
not
knowing, not even thinking that
anything was
real, but a dream.

my friend and i used to chat,
brag and
collect bees or dragonflies, tie their tails
and
fly them like kites
til it broke
off?
and then we tried to play marbles
or
thack-ji,
get beat up by some kids and retreated?