To claim: of yours, of mine, the same
To grasp. To drink from life's boiling spring

Thistled fingers warm and bend

Calling your children home hungry
Baited aurum and cocked lilly eyed lust
Perched like a jaundiced vulture, wings spread in vain
For anything to clutch. Bones of contention
To drink, with blistered lips
To grasp, in hands of barb and sap

Your greed, it sticks to your bones
It sinks to your marrow and calls you home