Poetry

I am pigeon hear me coo
I’m not glamorous this is true
In every city of every country
There is a chance you will see me

Before I hop off into the distance I want to make a few remarks
We may not have the same glory as swallows, hawks or larks
But we are multi-national, the true birds of peace that’s us
We hobble on regardless with no ego and no fuss
People try to poison us, they call us ‘rats with wings’
Just ‘cos we’re not romantic like a nightingale that sings

But we will fight this persecution
With our pigeon revolution

We’re the only beauty of wing in the city
When other birds take flight we’re still sitting pretty
On high ledges and on windows we will gather everywhere
Sitting between the plastic prongs designed to stop us sitting there

So please throw us a crumb, from wherever you come
Whatever country, party or religion, there will always be a pigeon

Sunday, May 25, 2008