Ridiculous, ridiculous, I declare
This pigeon
Its strutting puffed out chest!
Absurd this bird
As it plops down from the curb
Onto tarmac,
Tar mic?
All sticky
In the heat.
(This heat which is not seasonal
And that is troubling
But let us pretend that it is not.)
Far from fleet
Of foot like Mercury the messenger,
It nods, it plods,
Now it is nodding, now it is plodding, one might even say that it is now ‘lolling’
And I am not sure which one is worse
But strongly suspect that it is a curse
To be compelled by destiny to move so stupidly
Onto the road this sunny Saturday first thing.
I mean, it’s not as if this pigeon is going to amount to some or any-thing
Significant now is it?
What is the point?
Why bother with this rather flagrant and entirely vagrant pigeoning?
And yet on it goes, plod-nod-nodding,
Undeterred, hell bent on continued living
Apparently fascinated by
Perfectly straight white lines
Flat surfaces artificially contrived
Mysterious things not found in nature,
This pigeon,
Attempting its foolish voyage into the unknown
A living strutting ship
Launched upon
A frozen sea of bitumen and grit
Quiet now not even cooing
Not flying but at least moving
Hesitant unsure
Waddling
Into the future
Which could so easily be a bus of steel
Or an electronic car
He cannot see that far
Ahead
This pigeon,
Poor pigeon.
(Look at the audience)
I hope he’ll be alright!
(Poet makes sound of car breaking and a driver shouting ‘get out the way you stupid animal!’ and then says ‘There follows a dull thud.’)
Oh pigeon, dear pigeon, say it is not so!
This life, your life, barely had the chance to start
You’re not quite dead I know, I know
But it is hard now to hear your faintly beating heart
What, what’s that?
Save your breath
Don’t try to speak.
That thing’s a beak
Not a mouth!
What, what?
‘You are me and I am you!’?
(Pause…)
Oh my God I think it’s true!
It is my bleeding heart that lies pulsating on the road.
Not long to go now
Not long enough, I fear, to crack the code
For how best to live
So unfair they did not give
A single clue
I think so, anyway, don’t you think so too?
Squished by a white van?
That takes the living piss!
Did I ever have a choice? Oh man!
Was it always a case of this or, well, just this?
Did you know that was how it worked?
I thought I was going to get more
Time.
I had so many dreams!
I didn’t realise!
How are you supposed to recognise a road when you haven’t seen one before?
I am taking my last breaths here,
This air is the last air I will ever know.
Don’t panic. It’s okay.
Breathe it right in,
They can’t take that away
This moment lasts forever
And, in the end, it’s all you’ve got really:
You may as well
Make some effort to feel it.
Look! Look! At everything, everything you can see:
So many faces, each one different,
So…beautiful!
Beautiful, I see you all now
Just in time…
Thank you
Thank you for being here,
Thank you for seeing me
Thank you for seeing me live
And…
(Poet, as pigeon, dies theatrically)
Yes To All Of It 