Summer of eighth grade, feeling fly, brand-new hat, white as the sky Mom said “wait for school,” but I broke the rule, struttin’ to my buddy’s on the block. Felt a drop on my head, thought it might be rain instead, Looked up, saw that smug little coo — Perched on a wire, feathered liar, Crowned my cap with a splattered debut. Screw that pigeon, yeah, it started long ago, Feathered enemy, my lifelong foe. From the wires to the sidewalks, always bringin’ me pain, Screw that pigeon — crappin’ on my name. Fast forward, twenty-somethin’, teachin’ kids in New York heat, Bad day, lost my bag, wallet gone, nothin’ but defeat. Pizza man gave me mercy with a greasy slice in hand, But out the door — oh Lord, of course — Guess who’s lurkin’ on the land? Fat bird waddlin’, napkin stuck to its foot, Lookin’ like a greasy mobster scroungin’ for soot. I said “get the hell away” but it cooed with pride, Crosswalk light changed — and that bird’s at my side. Screw that pigeon, waddlin’ like a king, Crossin’ Brooklyn streets like it owns everything. Could’ve flown, but it chose the fight, Screw that pigeon, I ain’t losin’ tonight. Cars at the light, horns hummin’ low, That bird tried to pass me, struttin’ like a pro. Anger in my chest, heat burnin’ wild, I punted that pigeon like the game’s on the line. “Use your wings, you dumb bird!” I cried, As it squawked and it finally took flight. Then silence hit — I froze mid-yell, Realized every driver saw me lose myself. In the middle of the street, my rage on display, I bolted like Napoleon, runnin’ away. Screw that pigeon, hauntin’ all my days, From hats to crosswalks, it won’t go away. City laughs at my shame, but I’ll still proclaim: Screw that pigeon — forever my bane. Now every time I hear that coo in the sky, I duck and I weave, don’t care if I look shy. PTSD from the feathers and grime, That bird’s in my nightmares, rent-free in my mind. From rooftops to subways, they circle and scheme, Pigeon mafia hauntin’ all my dreams. Screw that pigeon, hauntin’ all my days, From hats to crosswalks, it won’t go away. City laughs at my shame, but I’ll still proclaim: Screw that pigeon — forever my bane. Yeah, laugh if you want, call it petty, call it small, But me and pigeons? Man, we’ll never get along. So if you see me in Brooklyn, mutterin’ in the street — I’m just prayin’ no damn bird lands near my feet.
