I am a duck

I am a duck.
You may call me odd, or even, a goose.
But I won’t bite or chase you, because,
simply put, that’s just not what a duck would do.
Ducks sit, or paddle, or waddle,
or maybe stop to tilt their heads
to look and quack.
Ducks are decidedly not Geese.
Ducks do not charge or hiss or attack.
Geese are dicks. I am a duck.
I sit.
I am just ‘quack.

Nor do ducks accept anyone’s attempt
to gaslight them with projections of mistaken identity.
Ducks are ducks no matter what.
I am a duck.
And maybe because I am such an odd duck, you may choose me from many such ducks and touch my head and call duck, duck, Goose!
But if you do, I’ll keep my seat, thank you very much. I’m a very happy sitting duck.
But perhaps I remind you
of work you’ve got left to do.

And you might say
That duck is a nuisance.
I shall campaign against him.
I shall defeat his ideology with my superior authority.
And I am just
‘quack.

And you might say
That duck is hot.
He’s confident and sexy and I hate that I am attracted to him because I’m also jealous and not used to feeling all these different ways at the same time.
But I am just
‘quack.

And you might yell
Duck! And run in terror and hope I didn’t spot you before you dove out of sight.
But even if I did,
I am still just
‘quack.

And you might say
That duck is evil and repugnant and represents everything fowl in the world today.

And you might say
That duck is the messiah and I shall spread his teachings in hopes of bringing a lasting peace to our society.

And you might say
That duck is too bold, or too shy, or too soon or too late or right time but wrong place, or just in bad taste but can’t explain exactly why.
But in any case,
I don’t mind,
I am just
‘quack.

And you might say
Just who does this duck think he is?
to quack as though he thinks he knows.
I am certainly such much more a duck than he.

And you might challenge me in ironically unducklike duck-to-duck combat. to settle the score and measure my duckness lesser than yours. You might devise and plot my destruction, trade your feathers for spears and beak for blade and sharpen your webby little toes into knife points and yet, remember still when, all your carefully practiced, strategic attacks roll like water off my back, you chose to make this win-or-lose, you chose to make me your goose. I did not provoke this attack.

I am a duck,

I am just
‘quack.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s