The statues stand like rusty gods <br />in silent judgment, sternly cold <br />in squares, in parks and college quads, <br />debased with bird shit, dirt and mold. <br /> <br />The pigeons peck at Lincoln’s feet <br />or squat upon a soldier’s head. <br />Let’s nix the seed, and let them eat <br />a ration of unseasoned lead.<br /><br />David Nelson Bradsher<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/damn-birds/
