down a dirt road of my day, here's today's poem, 5/13/13:
Four Big Mallards
Four big mallards come in
over the eastside tidelands,
four abreast and heavy laden
on mission and downcast wings
but spent of fuel.
Just under the radar like B-24 bombers
returning from WWII Germany
having chased Hitler back into his bunker.
Or maybe they’re Viet Nam choppers also
just under the radar coming back from Viet Nam,
that other useless war, or maybe they’re
Blackhawk choppers coming back
from the next two useless wars in Iraq and Afghanistan
where oilmonkeys and a President with
lead for brains and torn wings thought he could fly
one last time before he opened his Presidential Library
to sell off his MAD Magazine comic books
and Dick Cheney’s “1,000 ways to Waterboard
or Frak Without Requiring EPA Approval.”
Four big mallards.
Four big mallards.
Four big mallards.
All that’s missing is Robert Duvall and the smell of napalm
in the morining or in this case the late afternoon.
©Peter Bray, 5/13/13 All rights reserved
