Pigeons Of Warehouse 20

Pigeons are the final wild birds of the city Smudged by soot from diesel engines Waiting for crumbs from someone's hand They become scenery on the square On the square there is a fountain And pigeons need to quench their thirst So pea-brains of pigeons contain a fountain too Every day people who walk past the fountain Use their bodily surges to sense the spurt of water But some have gotten tied in knots by their desires Like birds they peck for breadcrumbs of affection While looking down, we often see such scenery But a few, beyond the grouped statues, above the square Exhibit the constant soaring of a fountain