Pigeon

Malevolence hangs over the street.
The people never speak to each other
Though they share the same walls and their shit
Goes down the same pipes.
Animals with the arrogance of Greek gods.
That’s all us homo saps are.

A middle aged man, the face dripping off him
Drags himself up the street head first.
A woman mutters
Quietly deranged by disappointment.
The children feed the pigeons because they have not yet leant how to hate or mistrust.
An opaque window guards an empty, famished room
Aching for a body’s warmth.
Spit and piss colour the paths.
Held together with
Hate and boredom.
Those two plagues
Which rip the peace from summer days.
This whole sorry block should be

BANG

CRACK

Pestled into the dust of the city.

The pigeon blinks.
Just as I need to blink.
It’s eyes are orange and yellow
Like a more noble bird
A hawk maybe.
The more I stare the more beautiful it seems
In spite of its filth, it’s mangled foot.
A sparkle of aquamarine flashes from inside its coat
Maybe if polished it might be searing bright all over.
Underneath the dirt it could shine.