‘Twas the hot weather <br />Likes of this they had never <br />Seen. Such a stew <br />That mother nature seemed ‘t brew. <br /> <br />The possum, a marsupial <br />With scally tail with no hair a'tal <br />Two buzzard friends with shinny heads <br />Worn bald by picking at innards. <br /> <br />Met this sunny breezy day <br />Alongst the roadside right-of-way. <br />Drawn by the sight and smell <br />Of a carcass smashed to hell. <br /> <br />First buzzard said to ‘t other, 'it's the taste, <br />Can't afford to waste a bit, in our haste.' <br />But the second said, 'let it stand and the flavor <br />Can get only better for us t' savor.' <br /> <br />The possum said, 'it's taste not smell <br />Upon which I dwell, <br />I'll eat the carrion <br />While you carry on. <br /> <br />This is my daily meat <br />Provided by the roadside, neat. <br />On this I do delight, <br />Preferring low carbs, calories, lite. <br /> <br />It's the entrails <br />That enthrals <br />You prefer muscle. I guts <br />You can have the bones and such.' <br /> <br />Like Jack Spat and wife, not lean. <br />The three picked the carcass clean. <br />Providing a service to us all <br />Scavengers rewarded by nature's call. <br /> <br />sjm/08/16/04<br /><br />Sidi J. Mahtrow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/buzzard-banquet/
