mhall46184@aol.com
For Us There Is No Stray Dog Cabaret
For us there is no Stray Dog Cabaret -
Our art burns at the end of a welding rod
And in the muscled turning of a wrench
In heat and sweat against a frozen bolt
Old work trucks parked in an oyster shell lot
Eaten with rust from the chemical air
And past the gates, cracking units, and tanks
A plywood paradise with ice-cold beer
Some of us work the night shift to pay our way
Through college, where we learn that we are
privileged
