by Wills Troubadour
I used to glare at the beggar
who sat by the cash point on Queen Street
and asked people to spare twenty pence
until one night I saw a pigeon with pizza crust in its beak
fly past and the beggar swung his dirty fist at it
and I swear he knocked the bird right out of the fucking air
and took the pizza crust and ran and I swear that is exactly what happened
except the pigeon was my face and the pizza crust was my wallet
and the beggar was Grandma Rose who I thought was buried in America
but I could be wrong.
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