Carl Stevens' Journal: A Poem For New Year's Day
2015 was a pain in the plow,
We made it through winter, but I'm not sure how.
Blizzard and blizzard, storm after storm,
For a month-and-a-half you just could not get warm.
For awhile you didn't know where we were headin',
It was meterological Armageddon.
The flip side of happy, the opposite of nice,
A region encased in snow drifts and ice.
Roads were impossible, side streets insane,
And the MBTA was an absolute pain.
The trains all stopped running, they just wouldn't go,
And every long day was more snow, snow, snow, snow.
But in the midst of that cold insurrection,
The Pats' Malcolm Butler made an interception.
And in the middle of winter, on that Sunday night,
We were warmed by that wonderful Super Bowl sight.
But we barely had time to celebrate
Before Roger Goodell started belching "deflate!"
The Colts and the Ravens rang jealousy's bell
And it seemed as if the whole NFL
Was anti-New England, anti-Tom Brady,
It stunk to high heaven, the whole thing was shady.
In a game where big men get banged up and fall,
The league was aghast at the weight of a ball.
They tried to fill Patriots with anger and fear,
Until a straight-thinking judge said, "Get outta here!"
He waved the suspension, and Brady was freed,
Opposing defenses were torched and treed.
They won the division, and won't it be nifty,
If 2016 brings them Super Bowl 50.
Weather and football dominated last year,
And now we move forward, without anger or fear.
Preparing for anything, and hoping for the best,
And praying, really praying, that it snows a lot less.
Listen to Carl's poem:
