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Poem	GALOOTS, you hairy, hankering, Snousle on the bones you eat, chew at the gristle and lick the last of it. Grab off the bones in the paws of other galoots—hook your claws in their sleazy mouths—snap and run. If long-necks sit on their rumps and sing wild cries to the winter moon, chasing their tails to the flickers of foolish stars … let ’em howl. Galoots fat with too much, galoots lean with too little, galoot millions and millions, snousle and snicker on, plug your exhausts, hunt your snacks of fat and lean, grab off yours.
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