Dream in Which I Am Wile E. Coyote
I am Carnivorous vulgaris,
Famishus famishus, other fake
Latin terms for hungry,
all ribs and red-rimmed
yellow eyes. I know
only one desire.
My desert is vacant
apart from the roadrunner.
I am forever chasing,
wielding knife and fork, down highways
disappearing into orange horizon.
Every time I get close,
the music swells.
I think ACME can save me,
a better blueprint
could tip the topsy
turvy laws of physics
in my favor. I imagine
picking my long, sharp teeth
with a purple feather.
I know
there is no death here.
I plummet from cliffs, crush
myself with anvils, explode
and explode and explode and still
live to paint the next
perfect railway tunnel.
The train is always coming.
That blasted meep-meep
echos in the rust-red canyon.
I am strapped to a rocket.
I am lighting the fuse.
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