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Song Upon a Crazy Duck
you didn't quite like it that I called you
the crazy duck.
well, even now when I think of it,
I get the feeling
that if we were sitting together,
you would suddenly stop being human
and quack!
you explained to me a way
in which they mix apple and ganja,
I found that interesting.
The kiss was almost biryani;
take that from
a mughal with rastafari inclinations.
now let me tell you,
that badge I took from you yesterday,
with the ganja insignia on it,
well, I exchanged it today
for one which says “Legalize it.”
of course I knew you wouldn't mind.
for you, it's feminism.
I call it the postmodern.
probably, it's all postcolonial.
now I see the connection in it all.
someday, maybe you'll see it too.
but do they still compose theories
on angel ducks
who wear male perfumes,
or soft neck evenings
that vanish
in the trail of a jet plane?
White. White. White.
[thanks C. , for your suggestions on some of the lines]
9 comments:
like a lot :)
This one startled me at first as it is very different from your usual genre...Sublime verses or economy of words..... but it's matter-of-factness somehow makes it very interesting.The ganja works well..it's a beautiful verse under the pretext of a casual scribble.Hats off to your versatility.Luv the way it's easy going n conversational
The duck lost on ashes...
Nice lines
different, like yeats reclining by orange lights in jude...
nice
anytime dear! :D
with your new movement you have entered an arena where i can clearly cite the location of culture(cultures?).
A trip that I won't forget for a long time.
I know you are trying different styles, but I find this to be a incoherent piece of work which makes no sense to me or any reader who is unaware of the context. I really like and prefer your old work to this one ...
Lucky Duck ... convey my regards to the duck of hers... I thank Satan, God or you that she quacked.
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