| Ripe |
- The scent wafted on the air
From 3 miles away
I swooped down and found it
Laying in the tall grass by the shore
I dined on some maggots
To get my saliva a flow
Then shredded the uniform
To access my festering feast
His skin ripped open easily
As foul gases escaped
Then oozed out slowly
As I lapped it all up
Now to his flesh
What a nice color green
As I ripped it from his bones
And swallowed it whole
I plucked out his eyeballs
My favorite part
They taste kind of sweet
After laying for a week
Then the thin bone behind the eye
Easy access to the brain
The taste of gray matter
I slurped it up till it was gone
Enough of this fellow
To his comrade I turned
Who had fallen next to him
Without even a word
His arms they were missing
But the rest of him ripe
It’s great to be a vulture
In the middle of a war.
