Academic journal article Field

What the Wooden Duck Says to Me at Night When I Can't Sleep

Academic journal article Field

What the Wooden Duck Says to Me at Night When I Can't Sleep

Article excerpt

I.

What kind of word are you looking for?

An ice-age word, or pre-Columbian,

something with feathers on it.

How about flannel.

Or sandpaper.

How about instead we turn on the Weather Channel?

I've decided not to listen to the decoy-

even if he is hand-carved.

I see a declarative sentence in your future-

something bold, with a little malice in it.

I look straight ahead at the tv.

War!

How about remorse, I say.

The aftermath of anything

is more compelling.

Yes, a different bird entirely.

The blasted duck is merciless,

harbors toward me a sort of ill will

disguised as charity.

II.

Any successful thoughts yet?

No, I'm dried up.

You need another word already?

I thought you were going to sleep.

Here's a sentence for you-

In my generation

you went wherever the man had a job-

the old 'whither thou goest.'

You know I hate traveling.

I blinked on the train once

and ended up alone and barefoot

outside the village of Calasanz,

irrigating potato fields for strangers.

Dig deeper! they shouted

waving their hoes in the air.

Is that what you're looking for-

a whole story? …

Search by... Author
Show... All Results Primary Sources Peer-reviewed

Oops!

An unknown error has occurred. Please click the button below to reload the page. If the problem persists, please try again in a little while.