Deadeye Dick was hunting quail,
For they are a tasty bird;
But it seems his aim did fail,
And an accident occurred.

In a bush he heard a noise,
So he quickly raised his gun,
But it was one of the boys –
With whom he was having fun.

Dick sprayed his friend with birdshot,
Though this wasn’t his intent.
His pal didn’t feel too hot,
And, for treatment, off he went.

Plenty of pellets were found,
And probing caused the man pain.
Soon reporters came around,
Digging again and again.

Democrats were ecstatic,
Hoping for the very worst,
While in the White House attic,
A coverup was rehearsed.

They’d say it wasn’t their Dick,
But a lookalike, instead.
They just couldn’t make it stick,
So they faced the press in dread.

The VP was quite distressed -
This wasn’t his finest day.
The one creature truly blest
Was the quail that got away.

© By RickMack (



Watch these pages for other poems by RickMack.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.

Snowfall At Nightfall

Bronc Buster

I Tasted Your Lips



Love Stories

Downtown Train Depot


Things I Enjoy

Oh, No

My Favorite Chair

The Last Love Song

Conversation Over Morning Coffee

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