Snowed In

Began with beers them hitting the slopes

Me not the sporty type strapped to the bar

Witty attendance from a man named Hans

Visited the deck with bright snow glare

Apparently there are people skiing out there

All shiny and sporty and full of good will

Good for them I'm back to the bar for another swill

Noon comes and food beckons despite the onset of fun

Hans recommends burger meat between two buns

I say yay to that and fries on the side

And a dab of mustard to give the taste buds a ride

So noon turns to evening and the sun drops

Slowly like a pearl into a violet ocean

Skiers return hyperventilating

In search of a rub down with hot lotion

And the bar fills with excited types

Still wearing goggles and exclaiming about

The wicked down-hill run on Slope 9

I am arseholed and about to glass one of these fuckers

When mates fill me in and put my abuse in perspective

Come and have a spa mate, it'll make you more effective

So brim full of beers into the hot tub we go

A very warm and fuzzy way to get in touch

With people you don't know

Bits floating about like flotsam and jetsam

Them all hyped on white powder me down on lethargy 

"Hey you fuckers, saw your death today. Name: Avalanche"

They didn't laugh just kept conjuring adrenalin from memory

Meaning there really is a divide between those who do

And those who philosophise about doing but don't
Between those who seek positivity change their lives
And those who imagine grasping happiness but wont

Later in the harsh dawn of my hangover

I stood wrapped in blankets admiring winters pall

Airport snowed in planes hulking together like icebergs

My glacial brain enduring the cunning of slow recall

© shaun patrick green 2012