Poetry: “Things Coyote Would Like,” by Davy Knittle

a respectable turkey sandwich
vanilla frosting
sheep shorn in quicksand
pinewood sheds
duck feathers
leg flesh
telephone calls from the desert
cactus pear ice cream
calluses on the pads of your hands
dance about weather systems
flat feet
sand around the rim of a water glass
the ecology of salamanders
lemongrass tea
where the moon goes
pronounced or burgundy stratus clouds
banana yogurt
deltoid muscles
fishing wire at your ankles
sleep or its undoing
grids for hanging lights in a theater
utility maps
lion noises
cheap straw hats
powdered jelly donuts
Eliza’s serious rain face
mint leaves
a forearm telescope