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           THE DOG  


his food prohibitive

drive him to the pound

just the place if one can

be found to perform

lobotomies of soul


      he should have been left

      to the days of eating

      tea bags cigarettes and acid


still nuzzling my thigh

he searches food   me substitute prey

but to pay you

to feed him on the sly

making sure I wasn’t looking

my dear    the reason why

until sometime this year

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