9 Dec 2015

Fake snow

A warm December
The most
Wonderful time
Of the year

But our senses flash red alert
Over the absence of snowmen
Or people falling on
Their asses left
And right

We feel unease from under
A single layer
No scarf
No gloves
Nose just peachy

There is a sickness in the air
The manufactured disappointment
Of humankind
We do not believe in the fat man
Any longer

And yet they insist on this image
Fake snow falls in every ad
The TV syringing goodwill into
Our veins

It is December
And all is white and glorious and fine
In their world

I turn the channel and
Immediately yearn for the life
Of the Ice Road Trucker
Perpetual winter ahead
Enough snow to bury that damn
Reindeer and his shiny nose

They coast over the white surface
Aware of the deep cracks below
Ready to swallow them at any moment
But their focus is 200 miles away
Over mountain pass and frozen sea
There is bravery
And poetry in their denial of the death just
Metres beneath the black rubber tread

It is too warm in here
And I realise the truck driver’s skill
At navigating that white surface
Preventing the cracks from
Taking him down to the freezing
Is exactly what I am doing here
Right now

The sky remains blue
It may as well be July
I yearn for the cold
I keep the wheel straight
And try to keep it on the road.