⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Thin ice has been made obsolete.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Declared out of order.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Like bubonic plague, polio, smallpox.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Like Houston heat and humidity.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Like politically incorrect words.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Wear the newest shoes, and you’re safe.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀No more problems with thin ice.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀By 2015, it’ll be required footwear.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Like nutrition labels.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Like those curly light bulbs.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Like toilets that save water.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Only thrift stores will have the old shoes.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And asylum wards that don’t let you go out.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And third world countries that have no ice.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I fell through thin ice once.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀We didn’t have the new shoes then.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I was raised on fear of thin ice instead.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Every winter my mother would point it out.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Every river, every lake, every mere puddle.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀”Thin ice,” she said, “is what killed your father.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She was talking allegorically and it’s still not so.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She was harboring guilt for not helping him.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She was saying it for effect and it had that.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She did want the best for her only child.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She did want to protect me from danger.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She wanted to keep me from following him through.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I went in with two close friends.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Close enough to have been my sisters.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Forever together no matter what and all that.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀We all quickly grabbed hands.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Each trying to help the others make it out.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Not arguing who cracked the ice for us all.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Not fighting to be the first one out.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Not leaving each other behind in the icy dark.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Two better friends I could not have chosen.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Not for falling through thin ice.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I recommend it if you’re not yet in the new shoes.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Get yourself two good friends to trust on thin ice.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀We were carried off by the river current.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Just like my mother warned, if only I’d listened.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀All three of us holding hands.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Drifting into our black wet grave.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Not all deaths are equal.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Death at the hand of a loved one, the worst.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Death by fire at the stake, mush less severe.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Death by natural causes, almost boring.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Death by falling through thin ice, rather soothing.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I began to understand what my mother had hated.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀What she had so badly confused.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Why she had wished him dead.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I came back up through the hole in the ice.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I must have been caught in a whirlpool.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I must have been going in circles.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I do that, frequently.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Like Houdini, I escaped.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I do that, usually.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀My friends knew I would get help.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I do that, naturally.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Even when I have my new shoes on, I still will.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Some things don’t quit just because of new shoes.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Firemen rushed to the scene.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Policemen rushed to the scene.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀News reporters rushed to the scene.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A crowd of curious neighbors gathered.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Two helicopters circled each other overhead.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Four ambulances were called in.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A politician running for mayor showed up.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Everyone was looking to me for what to do.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I stomped my old boots and demanded action.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I chipped away at the edges of the hole.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I refused to leave it to anyone else.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Four minutes, four full minutes.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Life can be preserved in ice forever.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Put a friend on ice for years, she’ll remain true.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lose your father to the ice, he’s never far away,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Wrap your heart in ice, it will beat again.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The new shoes only eliminate the risk.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀It’s not as if I knew how to avoid a good friend.