The Legends of Oceangoing Ducks Will Outlast Even the Ducks

You can explain anything,
Thanks to us. Not all of you
Feel the need to explain much

But, when pushed, there’s always more
Available pernicious
Rationalization you

Can draw on to escape
Whatever obvious wave
Threatens to crash over you.

Names are flotillas of ducks.
Even on the open seas,
Our rubbery, bathtub shapes

Are well made to float on facts,
Not to steer by or sink with
Any of them, no matter

How wild the winds, no matter
How strong the currents. So what
Could our superpower be

That lets us float aimlessly
Over the face of the world
Enduring and unperturbed?

Names hold the magic of lies
As tightly sealed in each term,
Every number, every word,

As air in a rubber duck.
If you can talk, you can lie,
You can’t not. Lies float the ducks.

The world’s already other
Than what it ever could be,
Thanks to the ducks the world’s made.

Your explanations scatter.
You foam in the waves, but once
Waves pass and you’re gone, just ducks.