The Story Behind The Ornamental Wooden Duck Apparently In Freud’s Tomb (Uber Haiku)

Freud’s sixteen long years
Always followed that duck’s call
Couldn’t forget it

Took only a knife
And three packets of fruit cups
(Bitchez love fruit cups)

Over Doom Mountain
Under Death Valley’s deep gorge
To hunt awful ducks.

Ducks. His obsession.
Ev’ry goddamn night, he dreamt
And the quack would taunt

Day, night, season, year
During plagues and through draught,
Universal trek

Cautious, like a pro
Kill or be killed in this world
Sigmund treads softly

Not far behind, seems!
Only a day or so. See?
Tracks heading South now

He camps without fire
Internal flame keeps him warm
(Not actual flame)

Goodnight, fair saviour!
To all psychoanalysts!
Only one more sleep!

Before the sun rose
Eyes spy his tent, and creep close
A silent waddle

For, while Freud would hunt,
Really he was the hunted
Every duck’s bounty

Up goes the duck call
Ducks flock from ev’ry angle
“Obliterate him!”

Freud was no fool though
Because he used a decoy
Explosives in tent

Catastrophic boom!
An explosion so damn big!
Upthrust mushroom cloud!

Sigmund’s last vision –
Each duck corpse chargrilled to crisps
You’ll need some plum sauce

“On event of my death,
Under peace, please let me die!
And one last request:

Renovate coffin,
Even if it be wood, with
Duck Tomb Ornaments”

Eternal quest end
And now he only ever
Dreams of his mother

– Scott Sandwich


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