This is the second part of A Vulture Tried to Eat My Face.
Having beaten myself into exhaustion
ascending a mountain I had no place on
a shadow slid across my path
before a lord of the sky descended to hover
just out of arm’s reach
a vulture, majestic and hideous
head cocked
blinking its oily black eyes at me
unabashedly curious
“Oh, my God!” I thought, “Look alive!”
so I straightened a bit and
picked up my pace, a bit
fixing my eyes straight ahead
as one does when being stared at
by a hulking eater of carrion
But then—for aren’t I of the dominant species?—
I stared boldly back at Lurch on wings
who then swept up and disappeared behind me
back to the sky, I supposed, back
to circling in that realm between God’s heaven
and earth’s death
Wrong
For the pink, scrotum-headed spectre
reappeared on my right side
and at the sight of the floating beast once again so near
I stumbled
the sound of my chaotic crumbling odd
against the quiet muffle of the mountain
whose heartless rocks
exacted from me their own price
being some skin along my arm—
and I was bleeding!
while just beyond the trail
high above the valley below it
hovered the dark creature
who, as I sat desperately clutching my fresh red arm
silently fixed his gaze upon me
wondering, perhaps,
if the God of vultures
had finally smiled upon him
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![John Shore on The Huffington Post](http://johnshore.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/huffpost.jpg?w=120 "John Shore on The Huffington Post\")
{ 19 comments… read them below or add one }
Candace, I know one in a different language:
Hodensack (Sack of …….)
Is that easier?
I don't like the English words for our various genitalia. They are all so … icky-sounding. Not fun. What are the equivalent words in other languages, I wanna know. Like Italian, or French. Bet they are much easier on the ear. If so, I'm switching.
Mormon: Really? Do you think?
Oh, no.
Man, I hope you're wrong.
John, ohmigosh. Dr. Freud could have a heyday with this poem. LOL!!!
Des: TOO FUNNY!!! That is just hilariously put. I'll never sleep again, of course—but funny!
Christine: Thanks. As I think you know, everything I publish here on my WordPress site also goes on Crosswalk.com, which is very conservative. I'm wondering if they're going to let the scrotum thing stand. Stay tuned!
For the pink, scrotum-headed spectre – seems I am not alone in adding this to my all time favourite description of a vulture EVER!! John, as per usual, you rock my pretty boring day, thanks for the laughs
This kind of reminds me of ravens when they take nuts and drop them in the middle of intersections so the cars will roll over them; cracking them open and unveiling their tender goodness. Your vulture was trying to get you to fall off the trail, cracking you open to unveil tender goodness.
OMG. The boys loved that one…especially the thought of the God of Voltures smiling @ the pink scrotum-headed spectre! Tons of lol! Thanks! Angie Palmer Kilian
I thought you said this was gonna be just two logs. LOL. Well it has been two but this cannot be the end of the story.
john…. we told you to stop smoking. lol. too bad you werent nice to the bird- he might'va granted you some wishes or something.
Are you a Honeymooners fan? Bang zoom, to the moon, John. A poem is the end of the story? Why I oughtta…
Hey, it's your perogative.
Oh, yeah! Cliff hanger! I didn't register that. Duh. Thanks for noticing it, David. you rock.
Free: Thank you, very much. I really appreciate you taking the time to pen me these kind words.
HA! Cliff-hanger. Nice one, Gretta!
I gotta tell you, John, I so enjoy your writing! "God of vultures" and "scrotum-headed spectre" are just two of my favorites in this! What amazing word pictures you create, with humor thrown in for good measure. Thanks for sharing your gift.
I'm just glad that my life's purpose wasn't to become bird food.
Talk about a cliff-hanger! Obviously it didn't get you…you're still here!…there must be a purpose on your life,John-boy!
No, see, if you put it like that, it sounds BORING. But if you turn it into a POEM, see, it's suddenly a fascinating account, filled with rich philosophical nuances and compelling asthetic revelations galore. See? Because it's a POEM. That makes it rich art, not a boring story about how a giant bird freaked me out so that I tripped.
So to put it in smiple terms…a vulture was coming after you and you slammed into some rocks while trying to somewhat escape it?
Uhm.
Well at least your life seems pretty exciting.
I'm afraid this is the last of this particular story.