dirge to the pigeon

dwelling in tall trees of golden gate park
he sees no fear, neither in light or dark.
cars come and go
runners fast or slow
he waits for nothing but employs his lark

he sits patiently for the worms to wake
breakfast, lunch, dinner for feast to bake
gulping one-by-one
until he sees none
pooping afterwards for his stomach's sake

windows dirtied, drivers get mad
must clean cars or spots will be bad
he smirks as he swoops
dropping bits of poops
if head gets hit, definitely makes you sad

friday afternoon when i have nothing else to do
i have the morning off to run errands, woohoo!
driving through 41st
maybe it was a curse
i see that the pigeon confronts his boo-boo

i turn the corner in my white rental car
i see him swooping very low, but also not very far
by the time i can see
he had no time to flee
headlights directed, bang! there goes mar

sadly to say, that was not the end
rebound from headlights, i did send
car approaching
to other lane flying
second bang!, again he cannot fend

oh so sad, the pigeon comes to this fate
the misery he must endure, also must his mate
rental car i did drive
pigeon now no longer alive
mishap none could control, none could wait

let's all sing to the hymn of his passing
this elegy will be in honor and so will my fasting
to the heavens above
maybe next life to be a dove
in his memory, it shall be lasting...