This sheet folds a short poetic exchange with the police into an ornate graphic field of spirals, leaves, mushrooms, and repeated invocations to “be free.” The poem begins with the language of polite official endorsement—“Dear Sir Officer”—but quickly exposes the absurdity of being promised protection only “through the next raid.” Its quiet irony is one of the sheet’s strengths: the speaker asks, almost gently, whether there might not be a next raid, only to be answered by the bureaucratic logic of public order. The surrounding artwork turns that exchange into a Free City emblem, setting police power, money, and “the public” against the Digger insistence on freedom now.
| 
