The Coyote

 If I am so toxic why still do I heal … with lungs again able to draw oxygen and the beloved near

summoned just to be thrown away … a boomerang anvil painted coyote grey

painting your rock walls like they’re lush paris hills … can’t get enough panic-shaped pills … the path only I chose still hurts … the birds and stars circling my head on me still works

those birds no longer whistling dizzy … no one leaves until you get too busy … it’s always best you still make all the calls … and the sounds are still funny each time I do your cliff falls

without cause or further review … only enemies are owned and trained  until with them you’re through … some coyotes still may wish chasing you just to be near … 

but one of them wonders if he’s still so toxic why then does his skin teeth lungs and horizon still become more clear