Paul J Penton – Songwriter

Scrawny things, feathers lumpy and matted like they haven’t washed their hair for weeks. Thin too, like emaciated refugees, but they sure know how to gather. Just sit on a bench with a sandwhich or a pie or a roll,  as I do sometimes down near the housing commission flats. Elongated rectangles of architectural triumph. There’s a patch of green recessed into the earth about ten feet , a gently sloping edge leads to an oval and ringed with trees – Now why did they do that? It could be a haven, as it is for these pigeons I guess. As I chomp on the chicken and salad roll, the voice from the serving girl at N-Tran  jumps into my head in broken English – “Sol, payper, maynays’. This seems to be the catch cry of the others too as they maniacally fill elongated submarines of bread with condiments – roughly translated it means SALT , Pepper, Mayonaise. “Sol, payper, maynays’.

The pigeons are benefiting from flaky crumbs that are shattering from the outside of my French stick, with the inner dough a bit of a magicians trick- there’s the appearance of solidity but in reality, it’s lighter than a flick of dust. Beetroot and boiled egg shout at the peace within my mouth, flavours are having a carnival, a piece of thin sliced chicken saunters past the taste sensors before taking the high board leap down my throat. It’s Mardi Gras, Carnivale’ all rolled into one, and those pigeons keep looking on, those tiny eyes begging, pleading for another morsel , dutifully thrown. A bar room brawl unfolds on the worn dirt beneath my feet before the ‘heavies’ move in; a couple of waddling crows and a lone gull. The pigeons know the Mafia is in town and  choose their moments more carefully. I know the crows won’t mount the bench so leave a tidbit there. A flutter of wing and the bold  are victorious, but the perfect white gull is among them – I shoo it away with a sweep of hand. I aim at a particularly feeble looking pigeon in the crowd and shoot it a sliver of wet expired cucumber  It lands nearby but the others are on it in a rugby scrum tackle……