deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Mallard

a story, in verse,
with my apologies to Edgar Allen Poe,
   
and to anyone with a fetish for popcorn,
    or spinsters,      
    or ducks
     
     
     
    Once upon a May’s day, cheery, as I pondered, gay but weary,      
Weary from the din of ducks amassing near my backyard door.      
    While I nodded, noontime-napping, dreaming that I heard some quacking,
    Mallard drake was gently quacking, quacking at my backyard door.      
“He’s just looking for a handout, quacking at my backyard door.      
                                                                        Only this and nothing more.”
                  
    Dreamt I'm hungry for a snack, and fetched some popcorn from the back, and
Poured it in a dish for that and opened up the oven’s door.      
    Eagerly I set the timer, strong was my popcorn desire!      
    Oven’s Bell! I got excited, and I spilled some on the floor,      
In the kitchen, near the door, a little popcorn on the floor.      
                                                                        Only that and nothing more.
                  
    Thrilled with my hot buttered treat, I took the bowl back to my seat, and,
Thinking to myself, “I spilled some. Maybe, I should pop some more?”      
    While I dreamt of popcorn popping, quacking that I heard, not stopping
    Duck outside now loudly quacking, quacking at my backyard door.      
It can smell that buttered popcorn, lying near the kitchen door.      
                                                                        A hungry duck, and nothing more.
     
    Through the backdoor window peering, hungry quacking I was hearing,      
Dreaming to myself that I should sweep the popcorn off the floor.      
    What about that duck I’m hearing? It could help with popcorn clearing      
    If I let the duck inside, now quacking at my kitchen door.      
It will eat the popcorn spilled there, popcorn lying on my floor.      
                                                                        Feed it popcorn, nothing more.
                  
    Feeding popcorn to that drake soon proved to be a big mistake, that      
Mallard drake ate all the popcorn spilled upon my kitchen floor.      
    Now that duck’s fulfilled its mission, time to make it leave my kitchen!      
    Duck inside needs prompt eviction, quacking that it wants some more.      
It can smell my bowl of popcorn, quacking that it wants some more.      
                                                                        Quoth the Mallard “Popcorn! More!”
                  
    Duck was fast and clearly able, flew upon my kitchen table,      
Eating all my buttered popcorn right from out my popcorn bowl!      
    Damn that duck for stealing popcorn, eating all my buttered popcorn!      
    Duck inside with wings a-flapping, quacking that it wants some more.      
I went to fetch more popcorn and discovered that there was no more.      
                                                                        Then the bird said “Popcorn! More!”
                  
    Angry now, popcorn bereft, my outrage on that duck beset, I      
Shooed my fow’l popcorn pest from off my table to the floor.      
    Popcorn thief showed no contrition, as I chased it ‘round my kitchen
    Cursing it to fowls’ perdition, as it flapped across the floor!      
Stared at me with strong suspicion, then it waddled out my door.      
                                                                        Silence then and nothing more.
                  
    Flustered by that duck, now vexed, I dreamt that I should calm myself, by
Walking to the cineplex, to watch a movie and unwind.      
    On the way, while walking there, I dreamt the day was bright and fair, and
    I enjoyed some clean, fresh air, no longer lacking peace of mind;      
Suddenly, I heard the blare of hungry quacking from behind!      
                                                                        Think I’m going to lose my mind.
                  
    My anxiety came back when, whereupon that hungry quack from      
Mallard duck, my walk bushwhacked, as toward the cineplex I plied;      
    Soon, the ticket window reaching, with that hungry quacking screeching,
    Ticket window lady preaching, “You can’t bring that duck inside!”      
Spite against all my beseeching, by her rules I must abide.      
                                                                        Overreaching rules? He’ll hide!
                  
    By that duck, denied my entrance, dreamt I feigned a measured temperance.
Mallard duck my new apprentice, whom I now must sneak inside.      
    In my trousers I must stuff that menace of a hungry duck if      
    I am to have any luck and win my entrance, get inside.      
I must hide that stupid duck within my trousers, to abide.      
                                                                        Silly rules now brushed aside.
                  
    Bought some popcorn, found my seat, I sat down next to sisters, sweet old
Ladies sitting in their seats, just chatting calmly next to me.      
    Eating popcorn in my seat, and feeling kicking from webbed feet, my
    Zipper, opened, Mallard beak poked out from trousers, so to breathe.      
Spinster sitting next to me can not believe what she now sees!      
                                                                        Just a duck that needs to breathe.
                  
    Hungry duck has found my popcorn, duck’s head buried deep in popcorn;
Spinster seethes with fear and scorn, believing I’m enacting porn.      
    Spinster sitting next to me elbows her sister, for to see, what      
    She mistakes as part of me, a private part she should not see!      
Worldly sister smiles with glee, “That’s nothing that we haven’t seen.”      
                                                                        “Seen One, and you’ve seen them all!”
                  
    Spinster sitting next to me keeps gawking at the part of me that      
She believes that she can see, a shocking masturbation scene.      
    Sound of duckbill mastication, munching popcorn, no cessation,      
    In the dark, duck’s head’s gyration, crunching popcorn, is a blur.      
Believes that I am masturbating, in my popcorn, just for her.      
                                                                        Exposed, indecently, to her.
                  
    Spinster sitting next to me elbows her sister frantically, but      
Worldly sister casually just waves it off with just a laugh.      
    Hungry duck then finds her popcorn, frantic spinster’s box of popcorn
    Duck’s head flips her box airborne and dumps it all upon her lap.
When it tries to eat the popcorn, I receive a righteous slap!
                                                                        Shocked awake from noontime's nap!
     
     
ReggiePoet
Author's Note
For the "I Dreamed in Rhyme Eternal" competition.
I dreamed in rhyme, internal, for this one!
This is my tribute to Poe's "The Raven"
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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