Tale from Old Buzzard's Youth
Buzzard hears of a tribe
that worships him, skims hillside & forest, & soars
high in slow circle of observation & contemplation.
Below him, villagers are flying a kite in his image, burning
laying out sacrificial meat.
Touched by the meat, he dips a wing, & drops straight
But villagers shoot arrows, & yell, ‘No! No! Holy meat
Buzzard rises up, dives, catches & crushes
kite-buzzard in his
talons, shits on several archers & a priestess, scoops up meat,
& eats with clenched brows in limbs of huge cactus, deep in
Makes him so sick, he pukes 2 days.
Said the old buzzard Old Buzzard used to call Old
Buzzard: ‘The art of forgetting is the radius of circle-soaring, slow, slow, in
blue geometry of sky & bird.’
Eric Chaet is a
poet, essay writer and songwriter. He was
born in Chicago in 1945, and now lives in Wisconsin. His travel journal
titled People I Met
Hitchhiking on USA Highways has been published in
book-form. His works have been translated into French, Dutch, Spanish,
Portuguese, Russian and Chinese.
His website is available for viewing at http://ericchaet.wordpress.com
front page image is copyright ©
by Tony Kitterick, 2012