love & vultures
by Rob Plath
at birth
we swing
on our
umbilical cords
like bloody
kudzu vines
wild & naked
just out of
the womb
& we each
land up
on our own
cross
sadly dressed
in human clothes
each spike
a different
responsibility
some of us impaled
in many
more places
than the
palm flesh
& feet
& we hang
there fastened
all our lives
waiting for love
or the vultures
whichever arrives
first
.
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