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