We Couldn’t Help Melting The Snow

by Pieta Mackle Bayley

There once was a Sunheaded carnival Lay,
got tired of carnivals and ran away –
couldn’t figure if it was the night or the day,
or the balls missing targets in a blonging-sort way,
but she simply decided she just couldn’t stay
and the Ferris wheel saw her go.

The Sunheaded Lay met a quizzical Zakes,
sweeping leaves in a forest with colourful rakes,
whose eye sockets each sprouted wonderful snakes
(for four eyes to choose from prevented eye aches).
It noticed the Lay from the heat her head makes,
and wished she would please go away.

The Lay saw the Zakes and she said, “Do you know?
I’m looking for the place where the other lays go.
I felt so out of place at the carnival show.”
The Zakes sighed fugnaciously, tootly and low
and said, “There are Lays in the land of the snow.
I suppose I can take you next morn.”

The next morn, they set out in a karliwaif car,
which ran only on water from a karliwaif bar
and could travel to places both closesome and far,
and whose engine sang with an acoustic guitar,
and who finally said, “You’ve arrived where you are!”
They stepped out to a terrible sight:

the Sunheaded Lays were haloed with smog
and upon their Sunheads there settled a fog.
That was all that remained of the snow. The Zakes sobbed
and its cries turned Sunheads all along the wet bog.
They gathered around the Zakes all agog
while the Lay, mouth agape, stood alone.

The Lays said their haloes were fixed on by gods,
who powered large monsters – lips billowing chodd,
which was choky and why autumn dwelled in Samsod,
summer spent its retirement down in Lake Cod.
“The weather these days is really quite odd.
Fire helmets then jandals then skimasks.”

The Lays said, “We couldn’t help melting the snow.
With all these smog haloes, the heat stays too low,
and before you query ‘why didn’t you go?’,
the gods need our sun too survive, you know.
Without us, we’re afraid, the plants wouldn’t grow.
Death would come if we left, so we stayed.”

The Lay, who had left her own prison and fled,
was confanfuzzywubbled by the things that they’d said,
but, wanting to help them, she scratched her sunhead
and drove back to the forest where Zakes-feet had tread.
She immigrated trees to the land so snowdead
in the karliwaif car’s battered boot.

The monsters of chodd slowly fell and gave way
to a newfangled forest on a newfangled day
which sucked chodd from the air and soon they would say
that the haloes were faded – lost by late May
and travellers who find themselves there, led astray,
will catch snow on the tips of their tongues.