there was a war
i was at sea
all alone there was a duck
pulling a much bigger bird
it had captured all on it's own
pulling it was going to take forever
so i thought i'd help
what i ended up doing was releasing it
undoing all the duck's work
but then it caught another duck
in a vicious air battle
the sweet little duck ripped the other bird's throat out
but in my mind i called it gored, which might be because
i was listening to death in the afternoon while sleeping
i thanked the duck
and apologized again for losing it's first catch
my duck friend was a true patriot, etc.
and i took the dead duck back to the kitchen
in the kitchen was the smallest oven i've ever seen
it was in the middle of the room like a potbellied stove
but it reminded me of those cast iron stoves
they used to have as toys when i was a kid
except it was bigger than that
and it was blue
robin's egg blue
and some other things might have happened
that i'm forgetting
then i opened the oven
inside there was a cup of coffee
it had been put in to warm
and it had cooked down
until it was thick and concentrated
a thin layer in the bottom of the cup
and i thought
is that good or bad
and i wasn't sure
and there was a duck breast
also in the oven
and i took it out
and i bit into it
it seemed done, but it was slightly bloody
like you'd want in a steak
and i know over cooking is bad for duck
but i couldn't remember how done is done
it's been too long since i've had duck
but i ate it anyway
maybe it would make me sick
maybe it would kill me
probably not
and it seemed really important
to do just that
just then
