[Photo: Michael Paul]
Big bad man, where can you be?
I’m locked inside. It snowed, you see.
I’ve no machine to stop the snow,
So, when it falls, inside I go.
Inside? You mean you run away?
From little flakes, you ran, today?
Oh, yes, I’m strong, all winter long
Until the chill turns into snow.
Then, with a flash, I dive inside.
Imagine how it hurts my pride.
The Stock Exchange can’t see me, now.
Dow Jones would think I am a cow.
But what about the little men
You push all year? What of them?
Shhhhh, don’t you say I ran away
To those I bullied, yesterday.
My big machines and mighty dollar
Make little men jump and holler.
Well, can’t your Diner’s Club card
Stop the sky from snowing hard?
It can’t, you see, because snow is free
And credit cards won’t do the job.
A gun, I’m sure, would stop the stuff
Plug up the sky. Point, shoot and puff.
I tried a gun. Just made it rain
And, then, last year, it snowed, again.
You’ve one more chance to kill that snow.
Use propaganda. That’ll make it go!
Yeah, maybe that would do something.
With no more snow, I could still be king.
Big bad man, I pulled your leg.
You can’t stop snow with words that beg.
I must admit, it is a blow.
Ha! Even you can’t stop the snow.
You’re beat, big man, by tiny flakes
They stop your show with no breaks,
The same way you do little men
With big machines and your money, friend.
Big bad man, snow is just for you
So, you could feel empty-handed, too.
Power-less ©1979 Joan Cartwright