Sometimes it’s missing
A leg or an eye as it walks 
Like a stubborn wind-up toy
Down the dirty sidewalk
Cooing eating shitting
Hiding its half-assed nest
In a raggedy bodega awning
Or building it around a row of bird control spikes
Using the sharp metal to hold up sticks 
And cigarette butts and eventually eggs
Then sitting there staring as if to say 
Fuck you, I live here
Purple-gray as an exhale 
From a delivery truck at dawn
Looking at the world
With the red eyes 
Of the hungover
The city’s own
Relatably messy little buddy
Hungry and down for whatever 
No matter how undignified 
Chicken bones dogfood vomit
Opportunistic and ready
Just to see another day
Hurrying toward the food cart 
Nearly under my feet 
As I walk to my office
With my anxious stomachache
And my lunch packed in my bag
And my eggs unspooling themselves
Into nothingness day by day 
I see its feathers in the flower pot
Droppings on the windowsill 
Footprints meandering like a signature across 
The fresh concrete in front of the Whole Foods
As the sun rises for the millionth time
Like piss in the bladder