Coyote Culture--Native American

   
   "Coyote Culture--Native American"
   
   CANIS LATRANS--and there is a mighty amount of Canine Constellations, enough that a good dog makes friends with the eagle, for if God is praised, as mentioned by the bard/fighter David, transcending the harp, into an outshine of matter, going PURE ENERGY, an icy atomic bomb, not burning them with fire, for that was not King David's style, so I sense, yet he was as cold as beer-chilling ice, encompassing you with frigid water as he soaks the Bud Heavy, an eternal freeze, in Kennedy's coldest of hells; however, with the coyote--you must laugh.  The wise/fool always up for a pestering prance, a symbolic shape-shift, second unto the Great Spirit Itself, and Yahshua, under Occam's Razor, transfigures the chosen, if we choose ourselves not to start the fight, but in defense of an envious zeal, weakened by its own pride, hating the benevolent beauty of what they dub a beast, yet beasts themselves, when the American Coyote walks upon a poison Earth, yet attacks the venom, immune to such nonsense, as it accepts God does not make the cruel attempt to bind man, having shown so with Samson, and His own Son, though Samson and the Prophets and Kings, along with the Angels and Saints, and every man that knows there is an original rainbow, spangled by effulgence, like the Fourth of July lighting up a den of falsehoods, though not complaining, yet exposing, knowing the Eagle's quote, beyond canonization, ever true, and the Eagle heard the Sacred Heart beat, electrical and flowing with the pulse of generating water, a living water, a deep cold water, full of potently powerful grace, such as the wondrous Orca, revered and known for its flowing thunder beneath the life of liquid, sealing out the iniquitous impostors and their lascivious lusts, like on a dame's tail-end in her 4 wheel fixture, to a park, and revealing the belly of bogus, slaughtering the Valley Girl, and the Freedom of Taste, for does not taste lead to health?  Thus, if you have a gluttonous taste, forged in fake waters; as a result, the animism of nature exists, gelled for those in touch, beneath the Mother's reflection of Her Son, showcasing a Luminous Lady, a Mirror of Justice, a Hebrew mother fighting for Her Son, perpetually.  That is what births Her the eternal Victory of being a Mother, fashioned in forever.
  Connor Coyote dipped the chaw, favoring only his friendship with the mammals of the sea, every sea, and the canines on America's turf, chosen to support Israel, and backed by the Spirit of 1776, so Holy, and fully imbibed by men of archaic days, forbidden to be remembered, as is the Native American, shuffled aside, yet Jim Thorpe is remembered here, as is the elongated yip and yap of a trash-knowing coyote, not minding taking a dip in toxic sewage, for that is even the Wolverine's reward, if you show true love to a cruising canine, or a posturing critter soul-kissed by the shimmering Heavens, which illustriously illuminate an American Land.