A flush of wings,
and then the tremendous pecker -
the great webbed feet pressing
Leah to the deck: "You're going
to feel a little prick . . ."
She'd been feeling a prick
for quite some time, her layabout
husband sitting on the La-Z-Boy
inside. And with this, Helen, her embarrassed
twelve-year old and future hair dresser,
launched a thousand prom-queens,
and Troy, her six-year-old fell
into the hydrangeas. But at least
Leah's backyard was finally free
of waterfowl.