Onto The Ice

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Over the Christmas holiday, I visited my girlfriend in Yorkshire for a few days. Despite the fact that neither of us had been anywhere near an ice rink in years, we decided that ice skating was a good idea. It was all very jolly and funny for a while, but things soon took a very painful turn.

I rather dramatically fell onto my bum and bruised my tailbone. I’m sure it was very funny to watch but it still hurts to sit down nearly 2 weeks later. I should clarify before you read this poem that, so far as I know, I haven’t actually broken anything but I like to exaggerate things for comedic effect.

Onto The Ice

I’ve got cold feet I thought, as we stepped onto the ice
Some weasel face went weaving right between us with a slice
I slithered on in horror as my legs went weak and numb
But I never would have dreamed I was about to break my bum

The sliding scene was carnage, children tumbled to the floor
And I’m sure my buttocks quivered like they knew what lay in store
I longed for some way out of it, but knew it wouldn’t come
But still I had no inkling that I’d shortly break my bum

A group of fellow amateurs were huddling round the side
They hauled themselves around by hand, not caring for their pride
They stumbled out in front of me, collapsing in a scrum
I wobbled, but it wasn’t this that broke my tender bum

A flurry of obnoxiousness flung ice into my eyes
But the warden went on drifting, unresponsive to my cries
I never had seen such a hive of villainy and scum
But the straw that broke the camel’s back? The ice that broke my bum

The moment came so suddenly, I slipped and tumbled back
I flailed in desperation before landing with a crack
The shockwave shook my body, I sat dribbling and dumb
Then screamed in abject agony, and clasped my broken bum

You dragged me to the barrier and begged me not to shout
But I cried that if I stood up all my insides would fall out
A waddling toddler sniggered seeing me looking so glum
As I slowly rose onto my feet and off my broken bum

Impromptu colonoscopies and mercifully rare
But the pain that wracked my buttcrack was far more than I could
I hobbled off the ice rink, my face bright as a plum
But I couldn’t use the benches, couldn’t strain my broken bum

Some injuries are proudly worn, the stories often spread
If fatal, well at least we say nice things about the dead
A sprained wrist or a fractured leg might earn a hug from Mum
But you never get much sympathy when it’s a broken bum

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Yorkshire. A treat for the eyes, the bane of my bum


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