#1 Breaking Up Is Good For Youby Douglas Manson |
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Crack the ice undo the strain Break the freeze uncork the vein. The boom goes up the waters churn The freighted strait flows free again
Crack the ice, bring catkins, too. the sap ascends through Buffalo. Carry a sack, do our streets a favor pick up the trash and meet your neighbor.
Take your chance on a chunk of ice, put down the rings, the wings & spice, dance atop the lumber littoral (on Niagara Street there is no toll!)
Float your dreams over standing waves feel waters trickle across this page, tune your ears to equinoctial pitch and let the mud return to every ditch.
Let the mud return and our feet go bare lick the icicles in sweet Daphne’s hair
Break the jam uncork the vein --
The freighted straight flows free again!
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#2 Go Boomby Joseph A. Defetti |
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I like a lake alike four others; Though comparing them all if I had my druthers, Choose the one most shallow, lacking depth Say of Huron, Michigan, Ontario and the rest. The one most deserving of the year’s special favor Installed in December, maybe November, or whenever.
The Ice Boom it’s called; the “Ice” part we get, But what’s with the “Boom?;” it’s just a steel net. It throttles the ice, chokes it all winter long, Maybe far too long, in the winters long one, But no so long since blessed by the charming Dire displays of fresh global warming.
So now is the time for the Army Corps’ endeavor, To remove the Boom in March, April or whenever. Do we miss the Boom throughout the spring, summer, fall? Well, no, not so much when we are booming baseballs, While the Boom lies silent, tucked somewhere in the harbor, Rusting but relishing its next turn in the water. I like a lake unlike its four brethren, Superior in traits if not mass and volume. More storms, more shipwrecks, more stories of lore, Of Neutral the nation, vanquished by Iroquoia. In the days before power plants, and the need to intrude Upon the iceman’s full flow: Niagara’s interlude.
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#3 Boomdays Bluesby Meghan Anson |
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Bid farewell to winter’s endless gloom, and celebrate the removal of our boom. Spring has arrived not a second too late, to drive out the snow that we all hate. The earth awakens from its annual freeze, to catch the warm, gentle breeze. Then, at last, summer is here, undoubtedly our favorite season of the year. Summer means thick, green trees, And wasps, hornets, bumblebees! White sand beaches, And blood sucking leaches. Playful kites, And hot, sleepless nights. Corvettes, Ferraris and Lamborghinis, And fat ladies in string bikinis. Marco-polo, water balloon fights, And itchy, red mosquito bites. Summer? What’s the hurry? Perhaps we should keep the boom for one more flurry. |