For Pity’s Sake

by jesssouthwood

Do not feed the birds
They plead
A ploy to avoid
Mucky monuments
Still the pigeons cock their heads
Until for pity’s sake
Some bleeding heart
Offers them bread
Feels the warm glow of a good deed
And the gratitude
Of a creature fed
The birds mean more than bricks
And bit by bit
St Philip’s Cathedral is
Covered in shit.

An addict is denied
The belief that he is not in his right mind
And so the choice is mine
A sip. That tiny moment
Between cup and lip
It is so small
But to ignore it now
Imperils all
That I have carefully designed.
I wonder where the line was crossed
Whose line it was
And where lies the real cost
In the balance of many needs to be met
And all of them real and deeply felt
Intentions become moot
When the outcome is
The destruction of
Our careful construction
Or the sensation of
Sticking the boot
Into someone vulnerable

Men are not birds to be fed or not
Yet every morsel
I have granted
Is turned to dirt
As if shit were the natural product of pity.