Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

you're not special, Buddy---
not an old time Blue Plate
or a great deal in the grocery store
or on the car lot
you're just one of the flock waddling
over to the pond for a quick dip
then off to join that V formation
going north for a summer day of
quacking, strutting, finding a Mrs.
and keeping the eggs rolling.

You can't pluck one of your feathers
put it in your hat, drop
the sunglasses down like Donald
(no, not that evil individual one)
and lie on the beach warming
your wings and other things,
and just toweling off the waves
of adulation you got when a peep

Just one of the crew, oars in hand
rowing the big boat across the sea
in rhythm, quacking at each stroke
the whole flock in feathered frenzy
doing that mechanical motion on the ocean

And when in hunting season
when some mother-duck sucks you up
spits you out in a foreign chicken or turkey land
you take a pellet and down you go
put in a case with all the tender pullets
different tray, same case, price tag
on you too soldier, history just purchased
you in all your amphibious paddling and waddling
no great dinner, a dead duck
the chicks are omelets or stuffed
you are just not a fond fowl
but a gamey critter served
with braised kale, roasted beets
a treat for carnivores but common
nonetheless, a dead soldier duck
a shit-bomber from up on high
brought low, the dirty sneaks
in the camouflage and you thought
you were special
a mission and purpose in life
but just to decorate some fork-and-knife's table

when all is said and done, we are the tiniest blip on a vast radar screen of the universe....a dot in the oceans of time.....a fowl ball

Love the style, the imagery, & the word play, Dan

We're all unique like everyone else...