Countermeasures (From Poetry Magazine)
I wish I could keep my thoughts in order
and my ducks in a row.
I wish I could keep my ducks in a thought
or my thoughts in a duck.
My point is that we all exist, wetly, in the hunt.
The ducks are aware of this
in their own way, which is floating.
The way of the mind is brevity.
There may be other thoughts on other days
in the minds of other and better men
and their constant companions, the women,
but these same tidy capsules — never.
This is just one of the things
I noticed about my thoughts
as they passed easefully by.
Are thoughts random or orderly? We wish they were as orderly as ducks walking behind Mama duck in a row. We wish that we can align our thoughts so there is order and predictability. We wish that we can have certain thoughts rather than others — for instance, we wish we can have orderly ducks in our thoughts. We wish that our thoughts are in a duck, so they follow a certain pattern. But that does not happen. We are all disorderly, wet hunters. We hunt for something now, and something entirely different later. Our wet desires
The ducks have a way, and they are aware of it — they float by in the pond. We can also be aware that our thoughts are like the ducklings behind the mama duck. Just like ducks float by the pond, thoughts swim by our mind. And in our own mind they have an order — they come one after the other.
There are other duck families, with ducklings following their parents. They are ordered very specifically. But each duck family is different. There are no two duck families with similar structures, surroundings and swimming — never. Everyone has their own family of thoughts. They float by our mind.