in the greyness and drizzle of one despondent dawn unstirred by harbingers of sunbreak a vulture perching high on bones of a dead tree nestled close to his mate his smooth bashed-in head, a pebble on a stem rooted in a dump of gross feathers, inclined affectionately to hers. yesterday they picked the eyes of a swollen corpse in a water-logged trench and ate the things in its bowel.