fluffed above their *******,
beneath their wormy neck,
feathers glimmer hints of
deviously perceived deeds.
hatched from patient bellies and aviator eyes.
their tastes are not particular
or tuned towards a cuisine.
their plates are filled
with respectful nods
and tape to fix you
with their wings.

lift and leave
the vultures with your skull,
to see this life with aviators eyes.