Over the
rivers and through the woods,
To Yentna
and Skwenta and Rohn,
Jay really
likes to pedal his bike
Through the
deep and drifted snow.
Dodging the
overflow, skipping the flu,
Helping his
friends along,
With no icy
bath on the trail to McGrath
His prospects
were looking strong.
To Ophir and
Cripple, Galena, Nulato,
Then waving
the mushers home,
With
unfrozen feet to Unalakleet
And Koyuk
and Elim and Nome!
We have a
little project.
We made it
out of clay.
And when
it’s dry and ready,
With our
project we will play.
Project,
project, project,
We made it
out of clay,
And duct
tape, yarn, and hot glue
Also borax –
that’s okay?
Project,
project, project,
It’s congealing
in this jar.
We didn’t
know we left it
In the back
seat of the car.
Project,
project, project,
It’s for the
Science Fair.
And look, we
won these ribbons!
They
appreciate us there.
Jingle
bells, jingle bells,
Jingle of
the hail
Landing on
our pack-rafts
As our
paddles start to flail.
Jingle
bells, jingle bells,
Jingle on
our boat
Who thought that
spring in Fairbanks
Was a great
time for a float?
Dashing
through the slush
From the melting
springtime sleet,
Fighting
with the brush
That tangles
with our feet.
Up the hills
we climb,
The
pack-rafts in our packs,
We’re having
a good time – sublime!
Thank
goodness for the snacks.
Jingle
bells, jingle bells,
Jingle
through the bogs.
Oh what fun
it is to hear
The
bear-bells on the dogs!
Jingle
bells, jingle bells,
Where are
all the kids?
They sure
walk a lot faster now
Than I
recall they did.
Dashing
through the mud,
Our
backpacks feel like rocks,
Sinking in
the crud
Over our
wool socks.
But the hot
tubs now are near;
The crew
begins to smile.
Tolovana’s
luxuries
Make
everything worthwhile.
You better
watch out,
It’s not a
mistake.
You better
not shout
That the
news is all fake.
Climate
change is coming to town.
The data still
aren’t lying.
The rest of
the world’s awake.
They know
that we’ve been bad, not good,
So vote well,
for goodness sake.
I’m making a
list,
And checking
the stats.
Science and
research
Are boring
like that.
Climate
change is coming to town.
Good King
John was… not so good,
At least as
writ by Shakespeare
And acted in
the sunny woods
With armor,
pomp, and fake spears.
Hither,
pages, wave thy flags,
Though the
troops seem skittish.
You will
soon be dressed in rags,
Neither
French nor British.
The Duke of
Austria’s a goon.
I lost my
head deservedly.
Lizzy got to
stab Melun,
And did so
unreservedly.
Warfare,
poison, death, deceit,
And King
John starts to sing now.
But hark,
Prince Henry’s awfully sweet,
So Molly’s
England’s king now.
And did
these feet in recent times
Walk upon
Fairbanks’ theater scene?
And was a
calendar of this
In
charitable venues seen?
The oranges have
long been tossed,
My “Yorkshire’s”
hard to understand,
But I still
keep part of my heart
In England’s
green and pleasant land.
I’m dreaming
of a white Christmas
Just like
the white Thanksgiving a month ago
And the
white Halloween,
And all the
days between
Which were,
likewise, filled with snow.
I’m dreaming
of a white New Year
And an
ironically-white MLK Day
And Valentines
will be white, too
And probably
right through
White
Passover, Easter and May Day
I’m dreaming
of a…
Look, okay,
can we say that it will be non-white by my birthday?
It’s on May
tenth.
Thanks.
Wee Washoe emery
isthmus,
Whew issue
America bismuth,
Whee eschew Ameer
eke Erasmus
Anahata nude
deer!
