beggars and pigeons
for the chimney prompt at xpoetic.

melancholic weatherman forecasts
sunshine and clouds and blizzards.
it is all too predictable.
the city is not-alive with the scurrying
of toy-yellow taxicabs
and the quiet drama of beggars
lying at the feet of humanity's finest.

rain paints the city pavement in hues
of transparency, insubstance—
there is nothing quite like slippery-sliding
robust raindrops against new age
mary poppins umbrellas.
the elite struggle past with piles
of fifth avenue merchandise
and lament the tardiness of their limousines.

chimney soot lines pigeon wings
like an obsessive ex-lover;
they stalk the water-slicked streets
with more purpose in mind
than the common high-end businessman.
survival—crude instinct—after all,
is the greatest motivator.