Vulture

Cropping Its claws around the microphone,

With Its lips pressed against cold metal...

Vulture speaks, beaming bright beacons

of hope to mesermized Believers.

Addressing pain, drawing them in,

Entering bodies like a siren's scream,

Believers await Vulture's haughty words.

Preening, It draws near the needy souls

with outstretched wings.

It shrieks, "Dig down deep in your wallets

and pocketbooks and hold up a hundred dollar bill!

Don't have a hundred dollars,

Jus' write a check for 50!"

Don't have a 50, jus' hold up what ya got," Vulture croons.

Then an underling spews a pompous message throughout the crowd,

"Don't frown, Saints! Be cheerful givers so the Lord can bless you!"

Vulture shouts, "Have faith and your blessings will shower down on you by Friday!"

If you want your blessing by tomorrow, hold up $200! 

But, if you need your blessing tonight, put $500 in my hand right now!"

Down from its perch, Vulture swoops among the "haves."

It grabs the last bounties until each giver's hands shows empty.

After Vulture's sweeping message ends, souls go out into the night,

incomplete, in unfulfilled brokenness...

Back home to personal demons like...

     To mates who beat them

     To hard-headed, unruly children

     To liquor in the cabinet or

          stash in the bureau drawer.

     To gas shut-off notices

     To the crouching, gouging repo man

     To a house, not worth fixing

     To a  landlord, unforgiving...

And yet, Vulture, burgeoning with Believer's best crops,

spreads Its wings

and

flies

back

home

to

feather

Its nest.

bd