Poetry 2013 / Volume 44

Coyote Dreams — M. Sioned Curoe


Coyote dreams before the people come
before he is more than a concept
he’s breath running the plains
after Jack Rabbit

When new land bridges in cold snow
they ghost in feathers
and furs not their own
shaping him with whispers

of Coyote’s journey to bring back
his wife from death when he stumbles
and men blame him for their mortality

Can’t recall
first Fire brought in his maw
to warm their fake skin

Coyote dreams of becoming more
than a lesson


They call him the Imitator
he is smoke and clay and
can be molded into any thing

If the people were smart
they’d never set him loose
from the snare
or listen to his tales
of Deer’s children with dappled backs
of how he threw his sons
into the fire so their skins

could also bear those beautiful
white spots


Coyote meets Anansi on a Friday
they drink beer and lemonade and
sit on a porch at the edge of the world

the planks peeling from too many
summers without paint
they pass a joint and breathe
sweet grass smoke

The spider bitches about Leopard
stealing his stories
Is that why you brought
Africa’s sun to America?

Anansi’s laugh cuts
It’s fun to watch the people panic
about global warming


Coyote dreams of fire

(the great crash of Ragnarök
Rapture’s comets
Thunderbird’s snow piling leagues deep)
Xiabalba eyes the Tree
and turns away from him

Coyote dreams
of being left alone

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