after Wallace Stevens
 
I
 
The vulture is a dark songbird.
Its raucous cries herald
The disemboweling of the dead.
 
II
 
I was of a single mind,
Like a colony of vultures circling
A lone man in the desert.
 
III
 
The vulture volplaned on the heated air,
Lord of sky and earth below.
 
IV
 
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a vulture
Are a ghastly ménage à trois.
 
V
 
I am not sure which to favor,
The dusty music of my heart
Or the rash music of war,
The vulture’s keen eye
Or nothing at all.
 
VI
 
A sandstorm turned the window
To thickly pebbled glass.
The silhouette of a vulture
Crossed it, to and fro,
The mood cast
By its broad shadow
Was tenacious.
 
VII
 
O fat men of Middleton,
Why do you conjure birds of gold?
Do you not feel the vulture
Nibbling at your toes?
 
VIII
 
I know the vulture dreams
Of being shiny as a raven,
Iridescent as a peacock,
Spotless as a swan
Upon a pellucid pond.
 
IX
 
When the vulture flew out of sight
It left behind a landscape
Stripped of carrion.
 
X
 
At the sight of vultures
Flying in formation at dusk,
Even men of certain faith
Fear the Prince of Darkness.
 
XI
 
He had entered
The glass carriage
When he was startled
By the ungainly shape
Of a vulture perched
Upon its translucent roof.
 
XII
 
Death is everywhere.
The vulture must be flying.
 
XIII
 
It was evening all day
Beneath the radiation clouds.
It was raining
And it was going to rain.
The vulture feasted
At its pleasure.
 
(First appeared in Farrago's Wainscot)

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