Don’t run up Cheese Factory Road
on the second Sunday in January
if the wind has already beaten you
as you came up Palmer Hill.
You can sit in your warm office
in the late afternoon and search
the Internet for the word “cornice”
then browse through awesome pictures
of silver crystals whipping from the top
of a curled, white ridge, while dramatic
blue-sky backgrounds let you imagine
how fucking cold the photographer was.
At least you won’t be the one plucking
ice from your eyebrows and wondering
what frost-bitten earlobes look like.
You can Google that later too.
Don’t pretend that coming down
is easier than going up,
such thoughts are fools thoughts
when your mantra should be:
Wind-chill saps the body’s strength.
Let someone else berate themselves
for forgetting their face mask.
Let someone else drink Gatorade slush
in their last few miles.
Then call me and tell me how you
drove past some poor bastard struggling
up Cheese Factory Road.
I’ll be soaking in a hot bath,
but I’ll still pick up the phone.
-
11 Jan 2009 / Poetry
Posted by Scott @ 9:29 pm
2 Responses
January 12th, 2009 at 11:29 pm
Awesome poem, and I love the title, too. I’m picturing someone who is talking himself out of running…ha! Or maybe just the lazy guy who won’t do it. Regardless, you have some fantastic details in this poem. The Gatorade slush, the top of a curled white ridge, etc. And I think this is the first time I’ve ever read a poem that incorporates googling so well. Pure T excellent. Have you ever thought of putting your running poems in a collection? A book? I’d buy!
January 15th, 2009 at 6:50 pm
***I’ll be soaking in a hot bath,
but I’ll still pick up the phone.***
LOL - I’m right there with you - er, that is to say I am in agreement - let someone else drink Gatorade slush! *?*
What a clever poem and a wonderful little snippet. You take the ordinary and make it extraordinary!! Thanks!