The Means

Sal sent me a little piece of paper a few years ago. He told me it was something that fell out of an old hat box, which he was taking to the trash. As an apologizing for not actually sending me the hat, Sal sent along lengthy essay about some wandering neighborhood cat. I guess that was when i really realized he was starting to go. This little poem was found at the bottom of the envelope.
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The Means

I'll catch up with the rest of them.
Run out of this fog wearing the best matched clothes of them all.
I'll meet them at the finish line.
But after it's over I'll be able to take that shit off, returning free.

Fort Worth, TX 2/14/1990
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