Pigeons have no tenancy laws.
She placed her squabs on my sill.
When I protested, she gazed at me
with looks which were a hybrid
of hesitancy and hostility.
At night, the pigeons cooed.
Throughout the day,
the exhalation of their excreta
wafted across the apartment.
During feed-time, their twitter
was louder than church bells
annunciating crisis. But I was helpless...
Soon I decided — to be kind to myself,
I had to be cruel.
I opted to evict them.
But there are no courts for this.
No legal machinery.
Feelings have always failed me.
One can buy someone’s bairn,
collect a kidney or chew a cherry.
That is one advantage of indigence.
It ensures availability.
Let this hierarchy of hawking
not puff you any further.
We are all on the rack.
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