People called coyotes
will take you across,
highways will have roses
to stray the hell, no
one says animals
veer at name, how
this blurry dust field
home ends,
the wend fell us moving
white light aside, why
men wear the names of
animals down their
fronts, as cooks,
or pitch their bodies, down
to what, a method of state,
no walking at to where is
away, season seen onto
the eye, then this true
else is our nor, down
rows of shoulders, how border
share us down to none, we, an
act, leak at field, that or as
far as collapsing in directions,
coasts, that include, eyes
in the sun blurred bodies,
gave and met, and ripped
apart, us and out into
them slowing, to suggest
we easily become else to,
speak in these, breaths that
hung from mustache
through chain link
fence, snaking inland,
near here the field,
remains horses, bones
curled on their sides
atop floating pollen,
blind though edgeless, as west,
were stupid to further, the
lice white suns the sky apart so
sky in this ravine makes little
sense, they handfuls in sightless,
search where were there no
places,
You are calling this canyon
Tricky Wash
choking thousands, no
animal asks you why the
sun speaks a synonym of
us, anywhere earth not
become ours, cars that
press against one
another, no coyote,
the more you look someone
has no eyes
in the eyes
Thin Air 