this poem p much makes no sense buuuuut:
[draft] topic: sestina
Across the street I walked side by side with a pigeon –
up and up we travelled, ignoring each other
but still aware of the situation as we moved
- getting to our own destinations along the road.
The bird walked off first, wandered to the left
and after a bit I trundled to the right
I kept thinking about that event – just right
after it happened. The coexistence with the pigeon
that meant nothing – wasn’t anything – but left
me with a smile on my face, like any other
random occurrence that might happen near a road.
But still I thought I moved
on to try to think of more things that moved
me. The pointless memories that exist right
on the cusp of my mind; in the park, house or road –
anything that had the same hilarity as walking by a pigeon
Side by side – I talked about it but no other
person seemed to care. They went and left
me feeling dejected. I didn’t have a story left
that would interest anyone. No one seems moved
by what I see. A story as dull as any of the other
ones I tell – I can’t get storytelling right
Not about the pigeon
walking up the road
anyway. Who gets interested by what happens in the road
- no one cares that the bird went left
but I went in the opposite direction to the pigeon.
It’s not a story to make you feel moved –
just a funny observation to describe right
after it happened – just like any other
conversation. A weird thing to laugh at with each other
as you describe what can happen in the road
by your house. Nothing to get wrong or right
Just something – anything – that left
you smiling – like the time when you moved
along a pavement, doing the same as a pigeon.
Other people don’t get the story about the pigeon
Nor do I really. I just see the road and think how we moved
along together right before the pigeon left.