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Pigeon Man
Pigeon Man Frank,
buried underneath the
morning fog coddling the
fractured arteries of
urban sprawl
which mill humanity
against civilization's grindstone
Pigeon Man Frank,
bears wounds of scorn
as a foul wraith that
dredges along the
peripheries of civil society,
Lo! the herpes sore
squatting on the
public's upper lip
Pigeon Man Frank,
and his
outstretched arms
hoist passerine armies,
their talons sink into
his flesh like
fortified coils of
blood smeared
barbed wire that line
penitentiary walls
Pigeon Man Frank,
a concrete jungle pariah,
reclines serenely among
his mottled
feathered friends,
their eyes gleaming like
iridescent spotlights,
atop the edifice of an
abandoned apartment
Pigeon Man Frank,
the harbinger of veritas
cloaked as
an urban renegade,
gazes into the abyss,
before etching a
macabre grin
upon his dovish façade,
as he leaps
off the edge
in an attempt to
just fit in
Copyright ©
Shiraz Bautista
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