Big fat stupid short smelly lazy Larry Simpkinson
stepped outside and slipped and fell on his fat ass from
the growing drifting snow on his slippery front steps
that he hadn’t iced in the decades of useless existence.
He breathed heavy belches of white dust from
chapped lips that reeked of dead squirrels hanging
by their tails over a drooping power line of icky icicles.
Jelly rolls and muffin tops baked in his big lard
belly that oozed out the sides of a heavy-stained
white t-shirt covered in dust and gingerbread crumbs.
Children ran up the street and laughed and threw snowballs
as he lay in the snowbank with arms outstretched.
“Blizzard Belly! Blizzard Belly! Blizzard Belly!”
They all cried as they pelted him with pride.
But the fun soon ended as he rolled to his feet,
bouncing off the bodacious bulldozer he drove
through the streets to scrap the children into oblivion.
Mountains of snow piled to the sides of houses as
mummified parents waved at him with stiff fingers.
“No school tomorrow!” he yelled to them as the dozer
tracks gripped the turn and smashed the stop sign
into oblivion with the bones of squished children
vaporising into giant snowmen atop the roofs.