Poem: Slippery Hare and Clever Coyote

 

Wolves - Nicholas Stevenson

Hush, now children, let me tell you a story

Of Trickster Hare and Wild Coyote,

While scared, defeating, out numbered

But no out fooling, 

The Trickster Hare and Wild Coyote

walked togehter, all fair, 

In the Burnt Forest, or to the peoples; Clay Oven 

With new fresh flames, 

Slapping licks, on their feet or in between fingertips. 

Wild Coyote said 

“be not afraid, love will guide you home”

There was a clay woman who scoffed at first then coughed 

when recalling the palace of the child, where she was only 9 inches, 

waters as sacred as an Oak Tree.

Out the clay people came

Lights too bright,

Sun too hot, 

But adjusting. 

In the Hell makers Cavern, 

Thin chinks of light gets in, 

The clay peoples sit and recall…

The Trickster Hare saying

“What does this car/e look like”

A police cage, not an ambulance.

“and what did you sound like!”

These old names, forget Dr.

The same old loves refrain, that same old girlish clay game;

Screaming all over Brixton way

I have no saviours, and look at my wrists now

Girl, I ain’t no jesus. 

So the clay people-

Adorn themselves with adjectives

Perfumed with verbs, 

Sentences draped over shoulders, 

Paragraphs reimbursed. 

I have a word or few for Wild Coyote and Nostradamus too

I wont place them down though

As the clay people with large manifestos 

Will place what I do or don’t do

Simmered down into tick boxes, 

Red means no and blue means #MeToo

The manifestos say;

This is how close you were to meeting you maker- Ozy

So take this Injection- mighty good for you

And mama thinks so too. 

I’m no clay women, 

I am no fool

I am

Earth 

Fire

Wind 

And 

Sea

Poetry of WITNESS

To be or not to be. 

This mortal coil means;

I was born underwater, 

Counting in-between 

One

Pause

Two

Pause

Before the infinite 

Three

"Pause- "

 Said the Wild Coyote.