I hold these geese
in low esteem
this has become
my rabid meme.
And so it is
with disbelief
I ask is this
a goose in grief.
In seeming search
unanswered blat
it seems to wander
aimless, flat.
It’s obvious
my mind is crumbling
imagination stretched
brain all bumbling.
A writer’s mind
obliterated
sees the world
hallucinated.
How else to render
explanation
for my deluded
ratiocination?
Perhaps his lady
is just egg-sitting
and he is nervous
tense, unwitting.
But whether Dame
or anxious Sire
the ducks are going
to inquire.
I needn’t worry
until I see
my back yard’s become
the nursery.