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The Feeder of Strays.

 Someone leaves chicken bones in the park
among the nuggets of bark mulch.
A splintery cooked bone can kill a dog.
Mom is dead. Three months now.
Four times a day, beneath the palms,
Rebus and I follow the piss-tags along the paths.
After dark we follow the Feeder of Strays.
Rebus noses out the bones. I confiscate them
and throw them away with the shit.

CHASE TWICHELL is the author of many books, including Horses Where the Answers Should Have Been: New & Selected Poems (Copper Canyon Press, 2010).

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Title Annotation:four poems
Author:Twichell, Chase
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Article Type:Poem
Date:May 1, 2018
Words:122
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