The show opens Saturday

I'm putting the final touches on the work that's showing at Dandelion this weekend. Just got this poem in the mail - thought it touched nicely on desire and creation:

The rock splits open like wings beat
air, wanting. Campfire gives in to rain,
but I can't go to sleep, or be patient.

Part of me wants to eat the stones
and hold you back when you're leaving,
'till your good laughing turns bitter and wrong.

I worry I won't have someone to talk to, and breathe with.
Don't you understand I'm some kind of food for you?
I'm a place where you can work.

The bottle is corked and sitting on the table.
Someone comes in and sees me without you
and puts his hand on my head like I'm a child.

This is so difficult.

-- Poetic version by Coleman Barks
"Open Secret"
Threshold Books, 1984