A Pound of my Flesh

Hoping to tame

black feathered skies

I coaxed it down to earth

with a pound of my flesh.

T'was insignificant,

such a small thing, 

unnoticed, frail.

So, I offered it eagerly

and it was quickly eaten

by the carrion bird.

In that brief moment

my hands touched to feel

beauty in the necrophagy

t'was a singled lust

and for a second 

there was bliss,

and a satisfaction

in the brutality I must admit.

The caring of the giving

the love to be fed

the hope of need

even a dream of 

impossible flight.

So naive such was I

to do such a thing!

The beating of wings

signaled take off 

to feed on another.

I could feel the

air pressure

push down upon me.

My hope of capture

unrealized, torn.

The bloody

splattering 

abounded my feet

unnoticed, 

as I watched

upwards as he flew-

And the pound of flesh

that was devoured

Is now sorely missed,

by an empty hand, 

desiccated eye

and by a rotting 

hollowed chest.

January 03, 2005