coyote's in his 4-by
roaring dust clouds down
washboards
fishtail the corners
shake the roadside sagebrush add
another coat of earth see the sights
in the gravel up ahead: sun glare on
        snake skin
              shed       tread

                        jackrabbit
                                         just dead.

Last night star worship
        Jack got holy vision:
fast-approaching all-consuming beam
        of pure howling light.
Knocked
Rabbit Man into a whole new
        world.

Now his body's there,
side splitting funny little wide-eyed grin

                        buzzard food

and Jack somewhere looking down at himself
laughing
           like a lizard with no tail
           or a snake with new skin
           or a crow
           who just found fresh rabbit
                        in the road.

                        Now the question
for coyote: swerve to hit
           or miss?



h o m e
c o y o t e



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