by Bill Berry
OPENING
Three artists: a poet, a singer, and a painter. They each moved to a village. In the village, the singer sang songs. In the village, the painter painted. In the village, the poet was poetic.
One day, the poet spoke: I hate writing about these things.
One day, the singer spoke: You can’t say that.
One day, the painter spoke: Because of politics.
A coyote came into town the next night. The coyote was hungry. He was looking for food. He thought to himself: When the emperor has no clothes, everyone is none the wiser. Nothing more is anything less.
COYOTE
These were the words of the coyote.
One night, the painter took a walk. He met the coyote. The coyote was eating a dead bird. The coyote was bloody.
What are you doing? The painter asked.
I am eating because I am hungry. The coyote…
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