past pigeons
May 5th, 2007 by nickromaniak
this was written 31st january and 2nd february 2005. it’s all long gone.
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i said “i’m probably going to leave her.” i do need to speak with her tonight. see where we’re at. it felt, to me, like there would be no reconciliation. we are different enough to make it now seem impossible to be together.
of course meeting for drinks with her and a friend didn’t lead to productive communication. the language we speak feels dead. didn’t really see each other for a week, but it didn’t feel so joyous to see one another. and now we haven’t talked via telephone for a couple of days in our new streak of absence.
earlier i saw a pigeon dying. twitching on the sidewalk. it kind of looked at me i think, but looked to be thinking about something else. bird shit streaked out from behind him. when i came back from the beach he had made his way to the street and was waiting patiently at that corner to be mercifully crushed under the wheels of something.
my second thought after i had seen him was to write about him for some reason and then i was pissed at myself for being so stupid. why the fuck do i have to write about all the dying pigeons i see? cause i’m an artist? a poet? some asshole.
so yeah. i saw a dying pigeon.
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one time i saw half a pigeon, but somehow it was still alive. it was the top half, that’s how i knew. i always want to help them or something but, you know. you can’t. i never wrote about it though. not till now.
i am struggling a little bit with my short story. but in a good way, i think. i feel like i’m gonna have to write it about forty times and i haven’t even really started writing yet, mostly brainstorming and jotting down notes. it feels good though. there is some sort of age-old writing advice that i gave myself last week which was: shut the fuck up and stop writing about writing (or not) and actually write something! so… here i go!