7.3 A Tale from Old Buzzard’s Youth

by Eric Chaet

Buzzard hears of a tribe
that worships him,
skims hillside & forest,
& soars high
in slow circle
of observation
& contemplation.

Below him,
villagers flying kite
in his image,
burning incense,
laying out sacrificial meat.

Touched by the meat,
he dips a wing
& drops straight down.

But villagers shoot arrows
& yell, No! No! Holy meat for holy buzzard!

Buzzard rises up,
dives,
catches & crushes kite-buzzard in claws,
shits on several archers & a priestess,
scoops up meat, & eats with clenched brows
in limbs of huge cactus, deep in Southwest.

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.

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Picture: www.crexmeadows.org