it’s at this time when autumn's flame gets blown out snuffed to a wax and under the highway bridge the glide and glaze of pigeons shadow snuffing and car roar cooing fumes like death’s seepage an urban home’s grey and splatter, here the pigeons live indefinite // anonymous frail & glooming they're the gerunds of our cities giving concrete monoliths a sense of flight
Written for Bjorn’s dVerse challenge “Meet the bar with dissonance”
Wonderful. I particularly like the first and last stanzas.
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Thanks, Bob. Yes, I think it needs some finessing. Or I thought that at 4 this morning. Will take another look.
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Excellent portrayal of my least favourite bird.
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Thanks
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