Page 291
By Jack Joseph Smith
Penny Love Steven Friend
Where earth and sky seperate and make art
Fighting is a gift, beat to death, snap
your fingers,, and then quick,, you can fight
The language of art you taught me so well
Touch before you do; never drawing a picture,
I can realize a gallery; trouble so close
to my soul, yet sight so good, I see how
you watched out for others,, so many hapless
and those with promise you took in,, put up,
and showed direction, really countless your
good works; since meeting you in early sixty
seven in the hills of Echo Park,, and the walk
of Silver Lake,, up to the mid seventies on the
Mc Kenzie grateful river home; all time knowing
nothing is better,, walking after war or during
romantic film