Even if just the roof, you could catch hunger

The gutter was blocked again,
she said it was always the birds.
Pigeons were the worse,
gulls she excused as trailer trash
but war birds,
who fought
for God and Country,
it wasn’t right she said.
I told her it wasn’t pigeons,
she gave a boiled sweet laugh
and made me pastrami on rye.

Published in Eunoia Review