MUZZLE MAGAZINE
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FOX

BY ANDREA HENCHEY

The yip of a red fox pup kept me up
all night, intoxicated, and you, oh,

you think you’re so cunning,
goose-stepping the block.

Your cock: the rooster tail of dust
as you sped off in your rusty

Mustang. Me: the empty brick
garage. I’ve, I’ve got a bone

to pick and a crow to pluck.
I’ve got my tail tucked, wound

to lick. I prefer not to talk.
I said, I prefer not to talk.

ANDREA HENCHEY's MFA is from Pacific Lutheran University; her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Absent,  H_NGM_N, Drunken Boat, Other Rooms, Pank, and A River & Sound Review. Though her travels have brought her to more exotic locales such as Nepal, Kenya, and Chile, she currently lives in Connecticut, where she coordinates Inescapable Rhythms, a poetry reading series; trains for marathons with her mutt, Bodhisattva; and teaches full-time. Learn more at www.andreahenchey.com.
 
ISSN 2157-8079
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