Consider the pigeons of the city, <br />how in their filthy swoop and dive they fatten <br />on dusty Dorito crumbs; <br />consider their evolution <br />through generations of squawk and squalor, <br />peck and fight. (And what did it take for that one, <br />strutting his kingly amethyst ruff, <br />his neck sheen of subdued emerald, <br />his fat gray feathers of survival, <br />to survive here?) <br /> <br />Consider the homeless man outside Albertson's, <br />approaching every car with his rags and Windex, <br />whose far-distant ancestor <br />was able to track and kill <br />the wildebeest, the antelope, and the cape hare. <br />Consider how far he has come, <br />listening to his ipod between customers, <br />and yet how faithful he stays to the wild <br />dictates of seek and hunt and gather, <br />scoping out the best shelters for meals, <br />the cleanest beds, the one <br />tight face still able to open. <br /> <br />Consider your bank account, <br />dipping like a low-flying bird, <br />then spreading wings and planing <br />over the fields of dead numbers, <br />canceled checks, ancient pay stubs, <br />long afternoons bought and paid for <br />in boredom and lost purpose. And the live <br />bodies of your brothers and sisters, crushed <br />in the trash compactor of Unwanted Ads. <br /> <br />Consider yourself, <br />marching in and out of these institutions <br />in your skirt and nylons, leaving ferocious lipstick tracks <br />on styrofoam coffee cups, <br />your name and address on application forms, <br />like one of your ancestors peeing on a thorn bush.<br /><br />Alison Luterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/looking-for-work/
