When weather won’t hold and clouds
turn snake down skies too bright to stay,
you blame the ducks and think bad ducks
then fisting skyward shout bad ducks
at Vs that waver but don’t quit coming.
When rivers turn dream-side down
and thicken to the green of marmalade
in a schoolgirl’s twisted fantasy,
you blame the ducks and think duck guilt
where they capsize in backwaters
to peck scum from rocks and moon the sky
with their pointy duck butts.
When you wake to duck quacks
and time flags down your waking thought
of quack and quack again, you blame
the ducks for last night and the night before
and scatter them wobbling down the bank
toward the fat confetti of their reflections,
shouting beat it, bad ducks! Take this luck
and scatter on the sky for good.
Art by Michael S. Maydak.