Eric Weiss
Ju l y 1 4 , 1 9 1 4 Today is the first Yahrzeit of my mother, And it is in her memory that this retrospective is written. I am a falsehood, A wave of the hand and trick of the light. Yet I have money, Enough for another Voisin biplane, And fame, Enough for another moving picture. The people Shout and cheer and idolize. Need they now a sham magician? More than they need the realist medium... In a hundred years, The name “Harry Houdini” will be all but lost; The name is the truest reflection of myself— That, too, is fake. I am known for the art of escape, Yet my greatest shall miss my fame. Those great freedoms From the shtetl, From the tenements. Zachary Arnold
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