Poem

A Child Scares a Duck

The child did not enumerate
the ways that he could eat the duck.
The child did not say what garnishes
made the flesh of duck delectable;
in what soups, in what sauces, the boy could relish him.
The child did not mention he could force a tube
into the gullet of the duck,
fill the duck until he’s fat and his liver juicy.
The child—in yellow peacoat and black galoshes—
did not tell the duck a tale of guns and ammunition.
The child made no mention of decoys
or the mimicry of duck songs,
made no mention that he could hide in bushes;
made no mention of assassination.
No, the child did not mince words with the stoic duck.
The child opened his faded ruby lips
to show his little pebble teeth.
And then he roared.

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