The pigeon waved and then took flight
You ponder but find no respite
“Did that one wave by small degrees?
Or was it just motor disease?”
Well late at night down through the square
A pigeon walks past: debonair
With breast displayed and plastic wrapper
About his head, he’s awful dapper
He tips his head and raises wing
To doff his cap, the oddest thing!
You entertain a notion, fleeting
Perhaps pigeons can offer greetings?

As you ponder, you look sad
To comfort you, towards your hand
A pigeon waddles, proffers wing
Welcome warmth til you crack this thing
The knowledge slowly sinking in:
This feels like feathers and not skin!
You rant and rave, for maybe hours:
“The pigeons, they have secret powers!
You listen now, YOU ALL MUST SEE!
And one by one they all object:
Man and bird? That’s not correct.

The high court justices adjourn
We’ve heard the facts, of pigeons learnt
and once the judges sagely meet:
“a pigeon cannot ever greet
there’s no appeal that can be lodged
your sentence is to pigeon-dodge”
the verdict in, you’ve heard your fate
you hang you head and contemplate
restraining order quick on file
outside you see the pigeons smile
our feathered friends discreetly plot
with wings outstretched they’ll have us shot!

Stumbling out into the throng,
the people who believe you’re wrong
“I take it back, let me be saved!
A pigeon never could have waved!”
And when the crowd then dissipates
No longer can the pigeons wait
Instantly they’re EVERYWHERE,
With leather jackets, 50s hair,
A doves coo signals to the horde
The pigeons pick up tiny swords…
Well pigeons on the road arranged
Should never taunt, but be afraid
The modern age is surely neat
A truck’s just got a pigeon beat.

~ Leland Velociraptor, 2011


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