Pigeons

Known to many as flying rats,
but they’re wrong,
the working class
of the bird world,
the ones that stayed on
as brick placed on brick.

Not pure and flitting in meadows
but surviving amidst the man-made,
not what birds should be, eh?
Dirty and deformed,
the markers of staying on with us,
of sticking it out with progress,
and we punish them for that.

Hope it doesn’t worsen,
if they gobble our smoke butts,
drinking from puddles
of vomit and beer
perhaps they, too, will lose their wings
like us.

First published on The Blue Hour:

http://thebluehourmagazine.com/2013/01/27/3-poems-by-jean-byrne/

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s