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Rats With Wings

A motorcycle accident whistling softly through blades of grass

Is my half-mother where she did come to wrest me from the flaming wreck

Another shovel break inside and I try my best to get drunk

So what's the big idea that keeps wine and spirits from entering my brain

The birds of prey fall from the sky swiping fried chicken from my hands

I draw my lunch in close as my brother gestures with a hard boiled egg

A sound from hell the vultures make as they swarm round the still-born

Is my half-mother where she did come to wrest me from the flaming wreck






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