Poem

I promised the occasional fiction piece.  Although I seldom write poetry, I did write this one.  I would be curious if anyone has any comments on it, likes or dislikes, and what you think it's about.  I ask because I sometimes write too sparsely so that the meaning is obscure, but in poetry I like that.


acrid tendrils of gasoline smell clear the thickness in my head that I've had so long.
flames keep the coyotes at bay, finally, conspiring in newscaster voices.
I can't tell if this feels good because it's too