Sunday, August 9, 2009

Coyotes Hunt in Packs

I want to run naked through the fields of people and mountains

I want to tilt my head back, with mischief and pent up anger driving me

and howl to the moon and trees and rivers of the forest

I want to join the sounds of the world with my sound

I am the captain of the world, the captain of myself

If I want to rhyme I rhyme, if I want to make a dime, if I want to climb...

Tell me no, tell me yes - tell me, tell me, tell me...HA

there is no you - if you are telling me anything

I only recognize the you that that recognizes the you, first, before all else

What's that you say?

Why am I listening?

Who owns my lease?

Who have I given my power of life over to and how?

Who are the ones that are afraid of the human spirit!

Who wants the house to be clean and orderly - dust free

who wants to tidy up the untidyable

who has deemed it dirty

and what exactly is it that is dirty, what needs to be cleaned

who is this un-invited third party wedged between the dealings of men

who is this usurper, the crooked carny with red and white pinwheeling eyes

behind dark glasses and a tie

who whines "help me" - do you whine "help me" -

why? Are you about to expire, have you been attacked by a bear or ferocious...

The only nobility among men is the ability to form and fulfill agreements

otherwise men get confused and fight against natural instincts for survival

comfort becomes the cage and we are chained, internally, bars unnecessary.

I feel like there is a wet and mildewed blanket, heavy, draped over me

and everywhere I go I drip and tire and smell of repetition and order

Ahhh... the urge comes again to tilt my head to the Vermont sky

and howl like the coyotes of the Northeast Kingdom

lonely, pure, powerful - the coyotes hunt in packs

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