Blue skies and bird baths.
Revealing segregation’s origins.
Not learned, but inherently available on a whim.
How do you choose to live?
The regulars peck the eyes from a beautiful stranger.
Showing hints the creator may be the cock-stain we feared.
We tremble at what we don’t understand.
“Can’t ” means we tried and failed; we didn’t – collectively.
A pigeon draws the short straw and approaches me, testing my reaction to his seed quest.
The others now strategically perch in a tree to observe their whipping bird’s fate.
I allow him to eat but charge the others before their peckers unsheath.
Nothing more useless than a sheathed pecker.
I root for the underdog.
I cheer the slave.
Unpolished diamonds in the rough who stand tall against the money machine.
We’re all the same; energy.
Creatures of habit snipped from the same cloth wearing various masks.
Even bitch-ass pigeons fly when you kick rocks at them.
Kick those rocks.
Deny the instinct to hate.
Evolve.
Sounds cool, doesn’t it?








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