The Front Line Early Sunday morning after the crack of dawn approaching on two-wheeled transport they come Sweat accumulates on their cracked brows as their breathing becomes hard fought one man falls behind more bounty for the rest of the lot As each one works on his own and digs deep into bins of buried salvage to later collect and sort to bring to centers for underground currency manage For each of them is a footsoldier -- yes for the frontline of the economy beyond the grasp of a workers fee -- an employee, self-employed, with no hierarchy For theirs is the freedom to be -- in all its simplicity Garard Kuc -- ╭─────────────────────────╮ │"Beauty without grace is the hook without bait." │ │-- Ralph Waldo Emerson │ ╰──────────◇ http://dale.distract.org ◇╯ --

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