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#coyotes
I was three , no bigger than a west Texas tumbleweed . . . just three . My mother hung the wash out on the line and wiped the sweat off her brow with her hand . Half an hour later the clothes were frozen . Blue Norther . . . you can see them coming a hundred miles away . Wichita Falls , Texas . . . on the Wichita river . Moses sat on a mountaintop gazing at the promised land but it was out of his hands now . Leaning on his staff , the one that ate the Pharoh's two serpents . . . sssssssilently a single tear falls to the ground . No fence could hold me . . . I was over or under in seconds . A terror at three , a potential runaway . The police knew me by first name  . . . just three . The plains of North Texas , jackrabbits , coyotes , rattlesnakes and all . . . were home . Forty years of desert wilderness , till the last man , woman , and child of Egyptian connection had died , . . . . . . was such a sacrifice made . . . . . . Moses was the last to fall . On a mountaintop of no consequences .       "Run Rabbit Run"
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
Forty Years and Twenty More (1953 - 2013)
little brown rabbit in a field of coyotes- hoppy survivor
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Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 12:05 AM UTC
Little Brown Rabbit
Into the woods I go To fall in love With the coyote’s souls And let them Eat me whole.
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Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 8:27 PM UTC
Wild Thing
I'm going to tear my skin apart And I'm going to spill my guts, The world will know how vulnerable I am, Then they'll break my bones, Maybe they'll feed me to the coyotes "What a shame!" "Such a loss!" They'll scream, They'll yell about everything I could've conquered, while they're pinning my flesh down, for all my worse scars to go on display Oh society, do me a favor, and **** the standards.
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
Flesh Wound
The Messes We Leave The Cats You Dump on My Door There’s a black plastic bag sleeping in a tree And an orange cat who treads beneath it, Flinching at The jack-o-lantern grins That the coyotes give As they prowl about at night. Even after we take him inside, He’s often so scared Wide-eyed and meowing Like these new owners will leave him too. There’s a whole litter Gone in scattered bones Except for one who watches from rooftops and trees. He never meows, that one, Never accepts the invitation to come in. There’s a pregnant kitten Barely more than skin, And a white calico Who stares at us with the same cunning eyes That outwitted the wolves other pale cats did not. Those are the handful we tucked away behind these walls, The rest are not so lucky. A pair of siblings who lost the third Two toms who yowl to each other at night, Those are just the handful who survive still out there. Together, they are that small number out of countless dozens Who disappeared under car tires and canine teeth.
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
The Messes We Leave & The Cats You Dump on My Door