Fuck You and You Stupid Bangs
There was that day we all died
(no cult bullshit, mind you)
when the make-shift wooden sidewalk
above
the
abyss
above, the pipe construction
that carries our waste into the
Mighty Mississippi
We fell, together,
finally united
a congress with air and impending doom
toward those pipes
carrying our shit and our toilet paper and
our pets we got tired of,
the remnants of the wood walkway falling with us
Above us, pigeons circled,
in our last seconds, we thought they were
startled by our noise but they had seen this coming--
they had sensed it for weeks.
Above us, they circled cooing a
melodic “fuck you” since this was
their sidewalk first.
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