i won’t warn you with
my voice, anymore

tell me,
how do you calmly
tell someone to
“look, brake, stop, now, please”
in a nano-second?
calm but with desperate urgency?
without amplification?
without proselytizing?
without the infusion or projection of panic?
without the prescience of the future unfolding in the very moment?

tell me,
i’ll wait,

while you kill the coyote

crossing the road

that crosses razed forest

clear-cut for runs and Aprés-ski,
for lumber to build the 3-day-stay mansions – which they unironically call, “cabins,”
a settlement of a pop-up-Bavaria™️ for them in the valley of the mountains of

the Sangre de Cristo?

the lifeblood of the Red Willows.

the very same road

to access the trailhead
to the pristine glacial lake
with views of Taos Peak

a profanity of epithets

“williams” lake

“wheeler” peak

where you go, unironically,

to briefly escape

this World,
the violence of this World,
your World

the one constructed in your image,

and in your favor

and never in the coyote’s

---

---