Guard Dog

Peter Mladinic

I knew a chained dog, his chain thick
and rusty.  Timidly I petted him,
the eyes in his face small and gray.
Some nights his loud bark woke 
the people whose house he guarded.
I saw him run in their long, spacious yard,
a hill fenced by chain link.
His house sat on a platform of blond wood,
a plateau on the long hill of the yard.
His shaggy black mane sun bleached,
he was big, his mouth was big.
The chain big and long clumped
the turd-stained platform, a stage
for Prince.  I never saw him with other dogs.

Peter Mladinic’s have recently appeared in Bluepepper, Ariel Chart, The Alchemy Spoon, Detour Ahead and other online journals.

He lives in Hobbs, New Mexico.

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