American Vultures (Karen Thompson)

#108

The circus train cars abandoned decades ago,
The circuit of America now belongs to vultures,
Who once followed the elephants and clowns
Like starved, yearning runaways, an exiled sideshow.
Now, as then, they only eat the unclean, if pure,
Scraps of disease or murder on the edge of town.
It exasperates them, winging round and round,
With only frowning little girls and unplanted
Trees, shrubs, and ancient sawdust on the ground.
We know that of all fowl we're the most unwanted,
But those tiny birdbaths are simply insulting.
Tattered flesh, the strength of decay, our putrid breath --
From a vulture's field of view nothing can be revolting.
We soar, bubbles of gold, spiraling death.

Note: I purchased this photo collage from Artlink, a local non-profit art gallery in Fort Wayne. The artist, Karen Thompson, is my favorite local artist and I want to thank her, not only for giving me permission to use this image online, but also for providing a digital copy. Her work can be found here.