An hablador is not a traditional story teller. The story teller has a charge: to preserve and pass on a cultural heritage, the mores and world view that helps that community survive. The hablador can fill this role, but as master of the Telling he deconstructs these cultural icons, the language and the myths become colors and shadows, sounds and silences, to be rearranged, disturbed, destroyed and reformed in artistic acts of creation. The hablador does not tell the same story twice, for each time he steps into the rivers of the primordial chaos and reforms the world.

Where a story teller leaves a teaching, a principle of conduct, a conclusion for the masses to be safer, Koyote leaves the audience with a clear feeling that something happened at a level below language, below even sensory perception. Concepts, perceptions, and thoughts are all used by Koyote as the raw material with which he will build from the void. In the end, only the noumenal vistas of what is remain for the observer, and the certainty that something happened that is not part of the known.

Like his predecessors, the locos that travelled Latin American towns pretending to be crazy drunks to tell absurd tales of magic and mystery to make the children and the town drunk heave out a belly laugh or to open their eyes in contemplation of a space opening in a direction they never saw before, Koyote draws from the psychic and energetic content of the people present.

You can see him weave with words, mudras, magical passes, and the movements of his shadows a tapestry of multiple dimensions. The observer is now more than a passive observer, they also become part of the terrain, they are now going through what Koyote describes. In the end, it is common to hear them say "he was talking about me" or "everything he said is very intimate and profound."