Coyotes listen to their hair; a bald cadaver,
Far from being exquisite, chewing the pages
Of random books stolen from the local library, scratches
Freight car walls with a blade of the scissors
It found on a sidewalk. The train delivers the void
To the East Coast nihilists, the engineer quarrels
With the guardian angel all the way, the whistles
Fall into the sky, coyotes listen to their hair.