Ultimate Ski Experience

THE ULTIMATE SKI EXPERIENCE 740307mtl

By CARL EDGAR LAW
( c ) 1974, 2004

For the ultimate ski experience --
British Columbia!
that’s what the ad said:
Philip read, he
pondered he
went

Philip’s dead his
horoscope
that morning said setback
setback occurs but

move with the tide; he did –
slow in a glisten-struck
sweep-shard of snow

first!

the knees buckled the
lower spine dropped down the
pole-linked arms moved up in self-defence

then!

body twisted………..one
pole raced lightly one
pole spiked in

next!

spine and hip were one, the
snow a trembling
effervesence not unlike
the Schweppes-swept gin his wife
mixed freely with her tears and

finally

a moving
tumult blending with the white
limbs crack, blood bursts
like snowflakes from his nose they
found him twenty
minutes down his mouth
snow-packed, found
him three feet down the
mountie said the
chest was crushed he
felt no pain he
felt no pain as muscle here buckled
and sinew
snapped with the belling of hardwood

II.

Yes . . . there were
those who didn’t always like Philip they
thought he moved too quickly sometimes or
overindulged, bit off
life with the great gulp
of a raven

but!

these men they rose
all noble up armed from a sown
field
to cry his name to sound
trumpets from the battlements the
drawbridge rose, I
stood without
their hostile stare

they!

cloaked poor Philips wife in
raiments
dazzling and impenetrable they
sang his name in numbing feasts

that!

winter was a darkling
moon that winter
shrouded in question marks

III.

Philip was taken in his winsome
prime a beast
winged full-bellied
over the tundra, taken
by wolves
lean-toothed and yelping

Philip was taken reluctantly
muscle
bowed like oak-stave, the
tall-browed head bent down, his
cold struck eye . . .

Philip was taken at 40, his
silver drops
a pitter patter rain
chaff of his love

And!

Philip’s wife mourns she was ever
born and sifts
this chaff in search of kernels
Philip was a harsh
thresher of dreams he
wielded his lash with
a terrible lust
until he was consumed

IV.

Let me
get this right . .

Philip carved a virgin
slipbank of snow
tore and thrust and spiked deep the terrible red
flush of his blood
poured it unbridled, deeply
into the white

But!

Philip always knew
how to tear innocence
asunder

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