talk of pigeons
in the park
as they run
interference all
over one another,
scrimmaging
for corn crumbs, plum
pits, bread crusts—
though strange-
ly attractive, is
not such a good trick—
this glut
of rapprochement,
this spurious gossip,
this little bit
of trouble which
adds such spice to dinner
must be indicative
of something
I do too, but—
I don't even want to know what.
