In his new poems, Tom Schulz engages in poetic memory formation. He descends into the cellars where the antlers hang, and all the way up into the crowns of the cherry trees, placing markers of memory in each layer. In doing so, he claims the phantom memory of tradition and overlays his own memories of childhood in the GDR with scenes of burning Dresden and the present-day Pegida marches. Wherever these poems take us, to Lithuania, to Mexico, or to the cows in front of the nuclear power plant - Tom Schulz demonstrates that stumbling and pausing are prerequisites for an empathetic perception of the world and for its improvement.