Schoolboys and Their Hound.
For the hell of it the schoolboys break the ice on the pond near the tracks they're all bundled up in army greens stained with axle grease and dove blood and chalk and cum their belts hang down like snakes on a fence the leather is coming apart clear up to the last hole they poked through with an ice pick the dog on their trail is too deaf and lame to hunt no one will feed him his age they never did get exactly their own
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|Title Annotation:||twelve poems from Plain Songs: with an essay by Anna Journey|
|Publication:||The American Poetry Review|
|Date:||Jul 1, 2015|
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