Asphyxiate on grass,
Drown the thorax – place face in dirt.
Worms celebrate their pray: no longer hunted
By beak, preparing to feast, while awaiting rats
To nibble feathers deceased.
The Devil arises from six feet below
Aiming acorn bullets towards the heavens,
Attempting to reach God in order to question
His creation of hate.
With hole in chest the pigeon plunge,
Its body collecting rubber dust from passing cars,
Anticipating the arrival of maggots
With magnifying glasses.
Passing children claw at flesh
When eyes expand, expelling belief
In good when they discover white
Wings in dirt.