Tuppence, worth less than a thought these days.

No one offers pennies for the musings of your brain

when all anyone wants is to text, because that conversation

demands the least attention paid to the other speaker.


You sit at your park, asking for tuppence, but everybody’s walking

faster, driving, biking, ipods on, cell phones out. God bless you,

with your dog at your side. No one gives tuppence for the birds

but you might get a pound for the beautiful dog.


Pigeon lady, with your monastic ritual of feeding the birds,

Do you wake up every couple hours to feed the birds?

Do you scrub the sidewalk, or does that walkway belong to

a sphere beneath your concern?


It was a beautiful story I made for you,

until I saw you touch the birds

and then all I could do was worry for your health.