Follow the vulture
Follow the smell so
We can know where the big bird feeds
We hear many a rumour
Of fallen bodies
Of accounts no one can verify
The bird sniffs faithful to our spoils
the robbers claim
What belongs to others
They make game of our labour
We hunt
We toil day and night
And we really succeed
In felling games
Whether the prize of fat antelope
Or the big, bouncing pig
But they tell us
No one can account for what we just
Did
Our exploits are in vain
Yet we smell not
A rat
but big, big rodents
so we starve because
They say we worked in vain
They say we never hunted
Now we die, one by one, of hunger
While they go after the meaty kill
But the vulture sways its narrative
In the sky and tells us that
We were marksmen in the wild
And do have a story of juicy killings
So follow the vulture and
Follow the smell
Then we shall query their lies
From where lies quarries
They have eyes but cannot see the birds
With their noses
They sniff roses among our carcasses.