a poem written in 7:95. this poem was published by Vantage Point in April 1998. another of those small press publications that need any sort of support you can give. it's also a poem that fits the mental outlook as i head back to the paper-machine tomorrow morning, and those Oh, so lovely (NOT) heavyweight export orders that our crew seems to get all too often.
no address & the rags no one else wanted on his back
he searches garbage cans for breakfast
like a runaway dog - no license
just a snarl & growl
for early morning fog