Every morning on my way to work
I stop to watch the sidewalks
Steaming, taking a moment for myself
Because I’m interested in pigeons
Fraught with notions they struggle
To express, but the truth is I’m looking
For a particular pigeon that one
Day suddenly vanished — a betrayal
So like the small human betrayals
I suffered at my hands, hands
Gently slapping my thighs, paper crown
Flaming on my head, holes in every pocket.
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