Morning in Strasbourg, the sea gulls knew they had to be early if they wanted their places.
Sitting on a square lamp
Eying foolish fishermen at the river
With bad intent.
Snot running down the beak
Greasy shabby feathers smearing garbage dust
Drying in the cold sun
Watching without patience the untalented failure.
Feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of broken luck.
(some of it borrowed and the rest inspired all from the band “Jethro Tull“)
Inspired from Paula’s Thursday’s Special this week “Knowing your place“