The statues stand like rusty gods
in silent judgment, sternly cold
in squares, in parks and college quads,
debased with bird shit, dirt and mold.

The pigeons peck at Lincoln’s feet
or squat upon a soldier’s head.
Let’s nix the seed, and let them eat
a ration of unseasoned lead.

David Nelson Bradsher

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/damn-birds/