Waddling backwards in the name of sex
Behaving like real men in this, a duel to the end
Disgruntled, all but one
Preferring concrete as opposed water
A battleground filled by open warfare
Bombs hitting gently as that fog of hesitation slowly lifts

Four males and one female, locked in contest
No winner, just perplexing banter
Too and forth with calls of hate
Loving to feed from one another’s plumed rhetoric
Aided aimlessly by a frank disregard of nature
Combining as one to be quite a party

With a few fluttering wings and some eerie calls, it was over
Sent packing, three unfortunate losers
Leaving one to take the spoils of an honorable quack
Setting up home in an instant
Egging his new found love towards a shaky future
Avoiding gazes that could kill, if only weapons had been drawn