Ravenous Vulture
I’ve been harkening back to my formative yearsHaunting seedy seaport bars in Keelung,Navigating strange interventions abroad,While adjusting my ears to an alien tongue. On the streets of the market the game was afoot.I bought a gold earring and a butterfly knife,Then ran after numerous Dead Sea trolls,The cause and effect of a nautical life. I came up from nothing to a dozen tattoos.Their steady ascension tracked the course of my rise.I’ve sailed through typhoons, both real and imagined,The toll noticed most by the sad in my eyes. I struggled hard, then I struggled harder,Heaving hawsers and mooring lines fast as I could.There were flirtations with death and sordid disasters.I learned to sort the bad days from the good. It brings to mind the moral of that fabled children’s taleThat worried overconfidence and proved what’s fair is fair.There wasn’t any race between a bunny and a tortoise,But an existential duel between my patience and thin air. Sometimes there’s no distinguishing a donkey from an ass.Be wary of the scuttlebutt that whispers through the murk.There’s a horrible hunger perched over my door.I honor that ravenous vulture and feed it my body of work.