This tempting mixture of poetry and prose offers a different outlook on farm life and family roots embedded in the Kansas soil. David Tangeman gives the reader a unique point of view and unusual perspective from which to view farm life and the firm grounding that family roots and heritage give an aspiring younster growing up in a society of constant change.

Tangeman's perspective is particularly evident when he writes of the horror and confusion of the Viet Nam conflict.

More importantly, he demonstrates the underlying strand of brotherhood and fellowship shared by those involved in that unique situation, even years after the initial action ended.

Enjoy experiencing the gamut of human emotions and savor the richness of experience that gives each poem and story its own merit.

"I would characterize David's work as memorable and provocative, relative to that of almost any contemporary poet or storyteller whose work I know."

--Robert Lawson, general editor

I wrote a poem and
Poked holes in it
To see if it was
Art.


And left them there
To test hypotheses.
'How interesting,'
People said. But
That theorem held no water
(And neither did the jar).
All the people could see was Me,
But my name ain't Art.
Jars are not poetry
Without they store motion.
The subject is 'Jars,'
And my name ain't Art--
And apparently it ain't Jars either.
On the bottom right write:
Art Jars the Potter.