New York Post: POEM TRAPPED IN SNOW FOR THREE DAYS!!!

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THE LANGUAGE OF SNOW

I am a snow poem
trapped in snow,
hobbled, disrupted,
brought to my knees.
Ground to a halt.

I am a poem of blizzards
trapped in snow;
paralyzed in a city of
8 million snow-poems
digging out of
record wind-fuelled
drifts of snow;
trapped in the wintery
vice of its wintery
vice-like grip of treachery.

I am a snow poem
paralyzed by snow drifts
fuelled by cruel winds in a
city of snowed-in poetry.

Fanciful flights
to dream-vacations
that are –only–
ABSOLUTELY
NECESSARY!!!
Now cancelled!

I am a snow-poem
waiting for a snowed-in
LIRR frozen trains
on snowed-under platforms
–LIRR, commuters’s lifeblood.
Risking my commuter’s
uncommuted ire,
hobbled, disrupted;
brought to its knees.
Nothing getting through;
everything suspended.
Ire-riskingly unannounced;
NO commuting sentences
through muffled loudspeakers!
NO announcements!
Outrageous!

I am a snow poem
trapped in a paralyzing
10.9 inches,
(10.9 INCHES???
–make that 10.9 FEET)
of snow-blind snow,
hobbled, disrupted;
brought to its knees.

I am a snow poem
victim of a blizzard
that is higher
than a lizzard
and barely lower
than a buzzard.

I am a snow-poem,
ground to a paralyzing halt
halted by a paralyzing grind
paralyzed to a halting ground:
sounds muffled,
blinded by snow;
snow blind —
can’t see further than
(jackfrostnipping@)mynose.com.

I am a snow poem
snowed-in in a
snowed-under city
brought to its knees,
slipping on treacherous ice;
ground to a halt;
brought down by
the elemental treachery
of blizzards that torture
wide swaths across
our state from the west
to overwhelm
emergency rooms.

I am a snow poem
in a city of little drummer boys,
attempting to flock to rat-a-tat
stores in their last-minute rat-a-tat
(–but less-than-last-year–)
droves –but who on the way
were brought to their knees,
hobbled and disrupted
by treacherous ice.
(Is this right?
Little drummer boys?
who have served
their country?)

I am a snow poem
who finds it hard to believe
a mayor who goes back
on his word, who proclaims
(in copyrighted mayor-speak,
copyrighted mayor-syntax
and mayor-monotone):
“The city
did not suffer
any storm-related injuries”!

Who is kidding who (whom?)?
Meanwhile, headlines:
“New York helpless,
brought to its knees,
hobbled,
paralyzed,
snow-bound,
wind-whipped.”

Flight-cancelled snow-travellers
scrambling feverishly,
blanketed by snow
in their snowy blankets,
all-but-paralyzed.
No! Make that
“Actually Paralyzed”!

I am a snow poem
bemoaning the fact that
our own American snow poems
can’t get American snow jobs
(Actually exporting snow-jobs)
because of
the all-but-paralyzing
(make that paralyzing)
treacherous blizzard of illegal
undocumented
unregulated
alien snow-poems
blowing in from
God-knows-where,
writing the snow-poems
that Americans
refuse to write.
(–or used to,
before our snow-jobless
hockey-stick-shaped
snow-recovery.)

I am a snow poem:
do you hear what I hear?
Our mercury
dropping precipitously
like Barack Obama’s Polls
throughout the day:
(51% think his
badly-thought-out
blizzard Won’t Work.)
While on the treacherous ice
the temperature fell,
–hobbled, disrupted;
brought to its knees.

Call this Global Warming???
Ha! Al Gore!
Ha! Barack Obama!
You call this Global
(Snow-On-The-Riviera)
Warming???
GIVE US A BREAK!
WHAT A JOKE!

Wishing you and yours
fair-and-balanced
sleigh-guiding.

–Rupert The Red Nosed.


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