The Drought

The Drought

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Dip him in the river who loves water… said the cook on the cooking show… Take the hearts of
thirty ducks… and here’s the trick… You must keep them wet… the way to go… the way to go is
broth… Ok… Broth of hearts of duck… I went to go buy broth stuff… a bay leaf… Oh said the
grocer… With duck heart what you want is spice… Curry the thirty hearts he said… Back
home… Hurrying… Ok, curry… The mailman smelled the place… Oh Ho he said… I smell
blood… he opened the pot… Why if it isn’t 30 duck hearts… Of course you’re going to skewer
them…? Skewers… I had to… I had to go… I ran down to the hardware depot… Skewers…?
Well it’s not BBQ season… I persisted… I explained the meal… the populace… Meanwhile…
customers were coming… buying out all the salt and shovels… for the blizzard… buying out all
the fireworks… for the Fourth… buying out all the hammers and nails… for Hurricane Ross…
Remained: some rope… I’d hang them… if I had to… It’s not thirty duck hearts is it… asked the
clerk… I didn’t dare talk… To skewer the hearts of thirty duckers… he said… you need the
beaks of thirty ivory-billed woodpeckers… Are those… rare?… As rare as they come, he said…
Better give me 31… Ran home… the kitchen was smelling… majestic… Ok…Ok… Almost
ready… The places set… Candles lit… The downstairs neighbor tuning her pipe organ… 29
special guests filed in… Please sit… May I present… In the heart of each duck… there was a
glint… majestic… They said, Is that…? Yes, I said… Yes… each one swimming in sauce and
broth… Oh, they said… Oh no no no… Had I…? Were they…? No, no no no no … Dip him in
the river who loves water…
Yes that’s the recipe I followed… That’s not the way it goes…
anymore… they said… They said… each heart should be served raw… and drowning… in a
sacred diamond-flavored fountain… I was so… I didn’t usually believe in impressing… But these
guests!… Honestly… They were just… They were as hungry as I was… One especially kind…
one offered to… to pawn the woodpecker skewers… I lied… said they were worthless… said Oh
they were free… Oh just papier-mâché… Oh found a ton of them lying around… down… where
the river used to be…

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Katrina vanden Heuvel
Editor and Publisher, The Nation

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