Arts for the 21st Century

Fat Pigeons

Ever notice how, on any given street in Europe

you’ll always find fat pigeons?

These vagrants

roadside, power-line squatters

always seem to be well fed

and hobble, mockingly ignorant

with round, taut bellies dragging on the ground.

Pâtisserie afterthoughts

scatter in front of a park bench audience

inciting a crass, avian brawl

while beggars sit helplessly, homelessly

looking on.

The pigeons will say it’s easy for them to pick up crumbs

because of beaks built to peck away at food.

The pigeons will say that beggars can't pick up crumbs

because their fingers are too thick

lips too full

hair too curly

noses too broad

skin too dark.

Beggars are just not built

for a certain lifestyle of dignity

and freedom

and bread.

Mother England

round and rosy

from gold and blood pecked from our soil

with wings fluttering, squawking

jabbing pointed beaks

over land that was already governed

over people that were free

over bread baked by beggars’ hands

chained to her flagpost.

Mother England

who sang our patriots to sleep

with lullabies that were full of lies

gave us building blocks and trading blocs to play with

and nursed us into lofty political paradigms

only wings could reach.


So when crumbs stop falling from idle park benches

when European Unity turns stale

and faces, pale

no longer sing of home and glory

Mother England, like fat pigeons

will simply fly away

and leave us beggars

plucking helplessly at crumbs

and hoping for bread.