Upon the rind of the
stalking banks
will swoop
the swollen bulk
from siphoning paws
that turned spirits
to gaup at the last
of their golden ancestry
bitten not by vulture rivals
but by the savagery
of numbers that will be the generations prey
circling towering predators
relays without choice
with all knowledgeable
education flushed into a sinkhole
begins what became
of those who can't restore or resist
when the flight of the hidden migrant
will pound for the flesh of promises of vaults and jewels
yet leave with fliers stamped under brogues feet
into pulp and smeer to those
who seek shelter from downtrodden street
soon owned and repossessed
in someones fleet