(no subject)

[chaotic_adria]

I was sitting in the sun at a very bird-populated park
watching birds flock and pondwater ripple.

An old man sat on a bench and wore pigeons,
six in total (and one on his head).
I figured he'd sprinkled himself in breadcrumbs,
which is kind of ironic if you think about it,
and at his feet were three dozen more;
a torrid sea of feathers and beaks.

Nearer by, a woman was crouching, approaching
a resting mallard. With her hand outstretched,
she was trying to pet the bird, inching nearer
and nearer. The bird, who at first was curious,
began to look displeased.

I thought to myself, 'I hope it bites her, I really hope it bites her'.

The bird waddled away, but the look of
dissapointment on the womans face was as satisfying
to me as the one she would have had of pain and stupidity.

I wish it would have bitten her.