An Excerpt From Daily Life II: Feeding the Pigeons

A burger with sauce that slides from your grip
French fries greased with a salty coating
A downgraded dinner from the normal routine
But an upgrade for the pigeons that are slowly surrounding

At least for birds with no regard for their heart
And an inability to tell seeds and byproducts apart

A mangy, black pigeon perches nearby
Its feathers ruffled, twitching it’s head back and forth
A patron discretely hisses across the table
Hiding behind her boyfriend for support

They leave, and the crow-like creature stays
While a bold sparrow hops to investigate my ketchup

I periodically flick bread crumbs to the concrete
Amused at the sudden, flapping descention
Somewhat nervous, as they close with clear intentions
I understand why shopkeepers shoo them with brooms

But today the patio is empty, and I’ve made feathery friends
With ten in a row at the table’s edge
I reach for my camera to capture the moment
And that’s when I see the sign “Don’t feed the birds”

Ultimately, I crumple my wrappers, having eaten my fill
But I leave a souvenir fri just to see the reaction
Five seconds later, it flew into a tree


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