Emery Isthmus

 

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.

 

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Whew issue America bismuth,

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Anahata nude deer!