Hey there. The title caught my eye. The poem did not disappoint.
So, a little bit of context: I may or may not have an entire, serious, and just as violent short story that I wrote at the end of last year about the origin of the phrase "silly goose" and I think that this is its long-lost cousin or something akin to that. It made me laugh quite a lot.
First of all, I'm a huge fan of the puns. Also, Gary and Goosandra are perfect names, and I live with a pond behind me filled with geese so I could literally imagine this all going down right outside my balcony. All-in-all it just all seems made for me.
As far as a real review goes, I think you have some great imagery. I particularly liked your introduction of Shredder with the over-the-top descriptors. I also love ballads and think you captured the essence of one here. I imagine this being read as a bedtime story, or at a full pub, and I think that nails the vibe of a ballad.
There are a few lines where it feels like the rhyming and timing are getting pulled past their limits: this is especially seen in some of the ending lines in the second-half stanzas. Specifically, the one about Shredder winning her fame, and the line "surely nevermore" which I just didn't get what that meant.
But overall I think you nailed exactly what you were going for with this, and I would happily see more of this type of literature in my life.
Quack on,
~Messy
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