Or so I’ve heard; you’ll notice I’m not
the classical swan, the type featured in
ballets and such. No, not only am I
the colour of cinders, I have a beak
more suited to a cartoon duck than
the delicate gliding waterfowl so often
shown with their mate, foreheads pressed
together, long graceful necks forming
a perfect romantic heart. Not to worry –
I enjoy being my odd self, I do.
*From Elizabeth Bachinsky's poem For the Pageant Girls:
Miss Teen Motel 6, ET AL from the book
Home of Sudden Service.
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