The Pigeon

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The Pigeon

XenMedio © Jason Axelrod from 8WayRun.Com

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Dec 14, 2012 at 1:04 PM
Posted By Robert

A wee project I was involved in.
--
The Pigeon.

Morning
Black and blue turns yellow
A pigeon flies East through gaps in a toothless skyline.

Below
Half awake
Half still dreaming
A figure walks East through streets half constructed.
He says
"Five miles home when effects wear thin
A spastic walk
Disguised to hide a black jack deal of liquorice and linseed oil
From mapmakers, pigeons and Copper's eyes
Around a corner the hidden surprise".

Above
Out of sight the joke continues
Fifteen up.
The world is moving targets through the sights of an air rifle
Aimed to snipe at testicles
Then recognising a jacket
Aimed higher
To crack the oil slick wing of a pigeon.

The pigeon says
"There is no warmth in this concrete cliff of nesting holes
So cold outside so warm within".

The fifth mile and the figure is home
Twenty Nine up

The corridor says
"Jesus said one day at Mass,
Young East End Fleet rule Ya bass".
Noon
Yellow turns blue

Inside
She is awoken by the radio
'Don't give the game away'
She finds him with electric fire and fork
Burning bread.

The room is filled with sleeping bags and dissected fags
Cremated splifs with origami roaches
Made from unused tickets for Southbound coaches.

Lately his silence made her unwilling to accept the worst
Silence is his mark of her guilt.

She says
"Talking to you is like watching televisions in the afternoon
Soft - dull and unassuming.
Always leaving me with a feeling there must be something better to do".

He jumps into his sleeping bag zipping it up to his neck
Holding in the heat leaving his smell on the pillow - case and sheet.

She says
"Why are you so lifeless, you know, of others I don't care so much but why so cold to me?"

He says
"I'm strong and bold with your hand to hold and a hundred pills a day
I give you what you want to take the rest must make itself pay".
Night
A window frame of light in a black and blue sky
A pigeon with a broken wing
Unwilling to die
Trying to fly
Up to the light
To find a home for the night
Behind a window
Twenty Nine up
New tenants
One asleep
The other awoken by a fluttering
stuttering one winged pigeon.

The pigeon says
"There are no rats in these pitted slabs of rain stained grey
Only welcome mats, baseball bats and ledges that are dry".
Inside
She looks for the sound
In a bag in the corner he sleeps.

She says
"He has no talent except for sleep and counting giros instead of sheep".
She opens the door and the bird flutters in
Tangling its claws in her hair
He wakes with a start and grabs the bird by the tail
The pigeon makes no sound
But like a dry grey seed from a sycamore tree it spins as it fall to the ground.

She says
"I'm hungry for more than stolen morning rolls
I'm hungry from more than Ikea bedside lamps
I'm hungry for communication with you".
He is without prospects
Low skill
Low wage
As and when needed.
He says
"I am a lightbulb, and lightbulbs are born you see
When the light of two lightbulbs meet in the darkness
This causes a third lightbulb to be".

The pigeon has landed broken necked in the gutter
Forgotten to fly
Forgotten to flutter.

On a wall is written
"Follow this line ................................. {bleep} Off".

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