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Hawks aloft
All appetite and attitude,
Are soaring slowly overhead
Alert for chance of sex or food.
At this time, two, more often one,
On rising air from heated ground,
Conceal themselves inside the sun
To take their prey without a sound.
What poet can resist their stare?
These noble souls are wingéd kings.
The wicked beak, the fiery glare--
But let's consider other things:
Above this dog poo freshly piled
You see another flying beast
Not one bit less the creature wild
In flight above its next big feast.
And there above the jasmine bush
A ball of pheromone and flies
Their flight an acrobatic rush
Victorious sex! The winner dies!
But shit hawks do not move your pen.
The feathered fliers get the play;
Of eagles write, revere the wren.
I think it wrong. I've had my say.
(The bees, of course, are sugar hawks.
I've said as much in other talks.)
Comments
purplemoondoll
18 years 1 month ago
Great rhythm and flow, I
Kieran Nelson
18 years 1 month ago
I really liked it. One thing
Skumpfsklub
16 years 3 months ago
The poets attitude toward
weirdelf
18 years ago
what compels you to be so verbose in reply?
Skumpfsklub
18 years ago
Actually, I was reviewing the piece there, Jess
weirdelf
18 years ago
fair enough
Skumpfsklub
18 years ago
Yeah, I'm wordy
themoonman
18 years ago
Hi skump..
Craig Norris
16 years 10 months ago
it is a joy
Skumpfsklub
16 years 10 months ago
Blatant self-promotion comment