A Statues Plea

A Statue Speaks

The morning takes it's first breath of daylight, exhaling the sunrise filling the sky with colored 

brilliance, chirping often                                                                                mistaken as singing by winged troubadours,disrupts the gloaming's silence, shrill announcement of their agendas prior to flight.

I stand in bronzed stillness, aware of the onslaught about to befall me, a daily routine of  humiliation, we 

statues are city scarecrows, just as ineffective as our country counterparts

Pigeons are first to perch on my structure, cooing laughter while they shit  on my oxidized green copper surface, their feces leaving white spots about my body as though I was infected with Vitiligo,

these rats with wings are devoid of respect I'm a  creation of spirituality for Christ’s sake a pious image of an Arc Angel.

Crows and Magpies swoop in like gang members commandeering territory the Pigeons vacated in a cowardly fashion, they squawk in triumph and sharpen their beaks on my alloyed body, committing the same sacrilege as the prior visitors, 

milky excrement drips into crevices, sliding downward scoring long white lines over my frame, an expression of their contempt, a discourteous action without apology.         

The Bible contains many references pertaining to their reverence.

“Look to the air and the birds

Your heavenly father feeds them.”

Although God like an undisciplined child takes no responsibility for cleaning up after their mess, he’s occupied creating Divine

catastrophes that won't leave  dirt under his fingernails.                     

The daylight wanes as  the Sun makes a lazy exit and a gray landscape grows into night.   

Another vandal with equal disregard for public art employs a  method of deviant behavior in contrast to the winged assailants. 

they're referred to as “taggers” the weapon they holster is a can of spray paint, scribbling  nonsense and extraneous messages,

containing misspelled words,

profanities out of context, grammar  of the uneducated, accompanied by an annoying hiss of the spray can,

I’m transformed into a marquee,

displaying their stupidity in color. 

their graffiti leaves a scar difficult to erase, I’m painted in areas that cause me to be embarrassed.

Enter the drunks, addicts, thieves, 

homeless and the mentally deranged 

each group staging a unique performance, some voicing prayer like a child asking Santa for presents, believing that their requests will actually be answered, 

assuming I have a direct connection to God’s ear,others curse, swear and scream  at me with contempt,

suspecting I am the cause of their misfortune, as if I had a hand in their bad luck and demise, they choose me to be the victim of their displaced aggression I am the one to blame, I'm rewarded with piss, vomit and they break bottles throwing them against my metal frame, under the cover of foliage behind me, young lovers moan from the pleasure of  engaging in sex, hookers provide discounts for acts of oral gratification, my stature keeps them hidden from detection.

I'm sentenced to constant exposure to  the forces of nature, no matter the  weather I  vigilantly stand braving the  elements, at the mercy of each  season’s unpredictable climate, assaulted without intermission, never provided with shelter against the atmospheric conditions, if in the near future  you pass an anchored figurine, take a moment to  notice it’s  grandeur, 

fluid curves, it's facial expression , the attention to  detail, all a tribute to the artist's creative talent , and now that you are familiar with a statue’s stiff existence, your appreciation will give purpose to it’s frozen pose.