There are no angels with castanets who are going to fly out of the tea-chest and save us from coming into contact with ourselves.
There is a hole in this wall
dents that match my fist
I put this poem on the wall
because I'm proud of my creation
and if poetry can teach me to feel
then I'll have no need for this wall
I see fresh cement drying
at the place where I thought I'd broken through
We have covered this wall with expression
ways of channeling emotion
Pete's choice of organic art
the carved roots of storm flattened trees
and the skillfully shaped dome of the yert
The pictures of Jon's bus: a fusion
between the mechanical and the organic
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