Pigeons
The same plain birds
A sparrow, a pigeon
In that park looking for scraps
No shame
Soggy hot cheetos or moldy bread
They linger
No pride
Just survival, just to breathe and breed
Breed.
Breed more hot cheetos-eating pigeons?
My fingers, veiny and long
Desperate, desperate
They stretch and bend
ache and curl
Always moving but never moving
The pigeons
At least they fly
<Deleted User> (13762)
Fri 5th May 2017 08:04
Enjoyed your poems, your style of writing, this one in particular. I like the idea that the pigeons are only breeding in order to devour our discarded Cheetos. Apocalyptic. The pigeons, roaches and rats will be the great survivors. Look forward to reading some more from you in due course. All the best, Colin.