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/

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