The Coyote and the Dachshund

Listed with permission from Good Times Magazine

A True Story by Jane Broccolo                                                                                          

His eyes sharp focus  on her…
no hunger can blur
his cocksure knowing
the dachshund is his for the taking.
This skinny vampire’s silence
makes a lion’s roar
foolish.
I search for his face
in my mirror.
The dachshund, her hot
pink collar flashing at the dusk,
prances toward him,
delivering him
her sleek, silky, black body,
ears flopping in the wind,
tail lapping up
the thrill of
his empty gaze.
This coyote is no trickster
pretending to be something he is not–
a rumor defying him
in our own image.
In this moment, he simply is
standing, still, patient
to welcome his teeth into the
succulent
meat of All That Is,
‘consume-mating’ his love
of God.
No!
Stopped short of their holy sacrament,
my little dachshund and the coyote turn,
and glare straight into my greedy eyes,
their own eyes screaming:
Hey! What’s
your problem,
Man?

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