There's a pigeon that wants to make its perch
On my outside light, on the balcony
A few times there's been a flap and flourish
When I step out there, it flies hurriedly
Away. At first this forced me to flinch. We
Don't expect loose-bowelled avian visitors
Perching with pride on human property
Especially when those dirty winged wankers
Loosen their bowels, turn into such shitters
There's white and green stuff on my lofty porch
Hot water and detergent poured on the
Mess this morning's not shifted it, this mess
Of shit has made me wait to pounce and lurch
At the feathered fucker with cleansing spray
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