i tried: poems from a lost soul

There's a Pigeon Outside My Window

There's a pigeon outside my window.

This sounds like the beginning of every children's picture book

Like The Tiger Who Came to Tea,

Except this one doesn't talk much -

Or move, for that matter.

It doesn't flaunt its shimmering coat,

Doesn't peer at me with unnervingly intelligent, emotionless, bespectacled eyes,

Doesn't harriedly flap its wings,

Doesn't strut around in jerking steps, head jutting forward and back;

Why, I'm starting to think this particular pigeon

Isn't like that tiger at all.

It just lies there,

Silent and sti-

Oh.

Perhaps I should rephrase:

There's a dead pigeon outside my window.