while_my_dog_waits_in_the_truck fyn gula i'm at the payphone up to my ankles in wet, yellow maple leaves and i notice my cords have a hole in the pocket where the coins i needed to call you were suppossed to be waiting like my dog in the truck who sits staring at me, panting, smiling. i wonder who found my quarters and what they think they will buy with them, jingling my coins in their pocket without a hole. 021105 what's it to you? who go blather from