Popcorn kernels, cheddar-dusted Cheetos,
chips off a chip, hot dog butts and rolls.
How does a bird come to this,
one step up from a rat, conditioned
to scrounge the subway platforms
for whatever is tossed off, dumped?
You thought once that in her need for love,
she was easy pickings.
You would be her disability check,
her long-awaited relief at the end of a hard month.
She would press you to her chest.
Now, aren’t you ashamed?
Aren’t you ashamed?
She’s wiped your last kiss on the Kleenex she used
to tamp down the crumbs of a buttered croissant.
It flutters there between the rails. The pigeons
look this way that way for coming trains.
They know the competition’s grueling.
But, hell, they have wings.
William Derge’s poems have appeared in Negative Capability, The Bridge, Artful Dodge, Bellingham Review, and many other publications. He is the winner of the $1000 2010 Knightsbridge Prize judged by Donald Hall and second place winner of the Rainmaker Award judged by Marge Piercy. He has received honorable mentions in contests sponsored by The Bridge, Sow’s Ear, and New Millennium, among others. He is the recipient of a grant from the Maryland Council for the Arts. He lives in the Washington, DC area.