By Ryan Quinn Flanagan

my surprise

when the pigeons

at my feet

squabble over

a single spent shoelace

with no nutritional value

and the guy

who shoulders me

and walks right through

the metal detector

of my back

throws up his arms absently

and keeps going

as if to say he is sorry

when he is



his head

full of hair

and his

hair full of product

and him full

of himself

which includes both

his head

and his hair


that is progress

marching on


so that the pigeon

with screaming red

death for eyes

can perch atop

an expired parking



and ogle

the office tower

lunch crowd

through the revolving


of the Toronto-Dominion




Stem Cell

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his other half and many mounds of snow.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s