The Betrayal of Pigeons
I wrote this poem back in June 2025, thinking about pigeons, how they were domesticated by us, used by us, and then despised once they were no longer useful. Inevitably, it became a poem about class.
The Betrayal of Pigeons our first domesticated friend a rat with wings now they say food and messages pets with eggs and wings no time for cher ami once hero now shit machine in empty soulless grey a dirty bird shitting everywhere nets up keep the buildings clean these poor bitches that adapted evolved along with our needs discarded disgraced and irrelevant crowd our streets shitting on your shiny cars a parallel to a class of workers dragged from rolling hills stormed grey seas close to the land where they once loved stuffed in factories slaves to industry built the streets on which you walk your feet cooped up on estates even pigeon eyes see the city disposable irrelevant forever despised by the papers and rich obscene money makers that don't need you anymore that don't need you ever again until something needs fixing or an opportunity to die somewhere in a war that will make them richer rats with wings young men with dreams followed the path of working class boys and the betrayal of pigeons no freedom future or fucks given just a slow fade into frustration soaked obscurity
Written June 2025.
You can also read: My Life in Cats