Duck Hunt

Duck Hunt

Annus masterabilis:
The year you discovered masturbation.
Visiting cousins, they had Duck Hunt.
The ducks flew across the screen like
Those little angels in Giottos who weep
As they catch the savior’s blood as it
Gushes out of his hands and feet
And side like springs out of a mountain.
The gun was fun because of how exact
Action led to instant gratification.
And if you missed — the original meaning
Of sin is to miss the mark — you knew
That instantly too. The ducks however
Weren’t real, were mere blips of color
On a screen wooly with static, 
While the gun was real because
It was in your hands.