poetry, Uncategorized

Fit for a King

vulture

writhing,

corpulent,

vultures dawn their linen scarves to feast.

voracious lust, the very sin that poisoned eager prey,
consumed in coursing avarice that led to gross decay.

saliva drips from beaks,

whose curves,

expressed in blood-flecked gowns,

feed nostalgia cheerfully,
so fleeting proves the crown!

lavish feasts

and dinner bells

 harbinger of  carrion fantasy

corpulence, laid bare,

on such golden hills of tragedy.