Pigeons

Nothing much, just some poetry inspired by a few feathered friends.

*******

T’was a sunny day by the quay,
Where we birds of a feather flocked,
Feeding on seeds and scraps,
While the human stared and gawked,

Behind us the fat-assed Botero guards,
Like a giant idol of ancient devotion,
Once famed for M1’s egg-laying ad,
Now she’s just one of the many attractions.

So as his camera snaps away,
We ignored the unwelcome intrusion,
Just as we do each and every day,
For it is slim pickings without the attention.

*******

I am the king of the air,
As I perch on my royal post,
Today this street lamp will do,
Maybe tomorrow another host.