Doesn't strut
She's not that vain
Too busy dodging traffic
On one good leg
The other's lame
Arse in the air
Thick around the middle
A waddle
A flutter
Of feathers the colour of lead
But
It has to be said
To Puff Daddy she's the bee's knees
He fans his tail
Extends his chest
Coos his caress
To his one true love
His mate: the Peckham Pigeon
– Joan Byrne
Never die
We crossed the Rye
to catch the acrobatics and tomfoolery.
The circus, like winter, had returned.
Skitting a tightrope,
we said, crossing the Rye,
we won’t die
we’ll never die.
Today I heard
you broke your word.
– Joan Byrne
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