Friday Flash 55 & Mag 201 — Imprinted

They were freshly-poured

long before I strode

upon their cobbles and cracks,

but look down

near the young Linden tree

around the corner from the

tailor's shop with that wall full

of multi-colored thread spools

on lacquered dowels.

Look with your heart,

and you will see my

prints preserved

on the sidewalks of New York.



Written for Friday Flash 55, G-Man, and his Mr. Knowitall community...
and also
Written for The Mag: Mag 201 that inspired with the above image prompt
(New York at Night, Vivienne Gucwa).


.

Tailor tinkering

This tailor had his shop three doors down from the apartment where my friend lived in New York City. I was there for a two-week visit in 1990, my first trip to New York. I took shots of just about everything because I was falling in love with the city and I was flying high on the thrill of fulfilling a dream. When I was little one of my favorite songs was "The Sidewalks of New York," and here years later, in a window right on the sidewalk, was this perfect little man busy at his craft. When he agreed to this portrait I flew higher still.


Ulm 1592

Said the Tailor to the Bishop:
Believe me, I can fly.
Watch me while I try.
And he stood with things
That looked like wings
On the great church roof-
That is quite absurd
A wicked, foolish lie,
For man will never fly,
A man is not a bird,
Said the Bishop to the Tailor.

Said the People to the Bishop:
The Tailor is quite dead,
He was a stupid head.
His wings are rumpled
And he lies all crumpled
On the hard church square.

The bells ring out in praise
That man is not a bird
It was a wicked, foolish lie,
Mankind will never fly,
Said the Bishop to the People.

-Bertolt Brecht, 1934





Albrecht Ludwig Berblinger (1770-1829)
known as the "Flying Tailor of Ulm"
bio here