The Sunday Poem: Sometimes a Duck
(Visited 7702 times)Sometimes A Duck Is Just A Duck
(A Semi-Sonnet On Whether Strategy Guides Are Cheating)
Suppose you had a duck to deconstruct.
It sits atop a log, it quacks at things,
It flaps its wings all frantic, daring, dumb.
What parts of duck are really duck, you think?
Take feet. Theyāre webbed, for sure, and orange-black.
But geese and other cousins have them too.
That is not duckness, any more than spoon-
Billed beakness is a sign this duck is true.
It might reside in quacking; ducks take pride
In never shutting up. Perhaps parades
Of ducklings crossing streets like in old books?
A duck of culture, a consensus made,
Composites made of pieces sharp and blunt.
I must conclude that ducks areā¦ elephants.
This is, of course, a riff on the poem I posted a while back called “Pondering a Duck.”
2 Responses to “The Sunday Poem: Sometimes a Duck”
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As far as I know, every version of that old saying always leaves some wiggle room. Whitcomb says he “calls it” a duck. Most other versions say something like “it usually is a duck”.
Hey, just sayin’.
But I still agree on the cheat topic. It’s pretty cut and dried in my opinion. Just like a duck really is a duck, the waters get muddied when you start talking about other things.
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