There’s a hole in the wall

(not a bar - that may’ve been better)

There’s a hole in the wall

—— I found I’m lost

in the kitchen

by the shelf I built

from whence I found

my rage

and lost my temper

slid the knuckles back

like the old days

the saint laughs

at me from within

and the dead man in his ire

thought to hang

—— a painting there

one he hadn’t yet made

for he found his hands

were too callous for beauty;

his fingers have closed minds

he lost his grip somewhere:

a byroad off the narrow way,

by the wide wayside,

off the in between

Its left me lost in my thoughts

I’ve found

I’m just as surprised as you

My hands feel nothing

and give no feeling

to capsizing a heart