Not sure where I got the idea for “Librarians on Ice”
but after due consideration I think it could be nice.
Instead of a thick-thighed, scantily-clad songstress,
I’d feature a lass who favored Library of Congress.
Bedecked in sequins, with a plunging neckline,
she’d scowl and assess me a two-cents-a-day fine.
After intermission, when folks returned
with souvenirs they’d bought with dough hard-earned,
they’d plop in their seats and eat something chewy
and enjoy a review by the Decimals of Dewey.
I wouldn’t carry them out to too many places,
for fear that the skaters would trip on their laces.
Instead of wooden barrels for the guys to jump,
I’d bring in file cabinets, those big metal lumps
that used to house note cards, usually three by five
(I’m showing my age now, I’m barely alive).
Or maybe book returns, stacked back to back,
for them to hop over, with skills that I lack.
The only problem at this point I see
might not trouble you, but it surely does me:
when the show was over, and we’d called it a wrap,
and the last leaping skater had crashed on her tush,
if the paying audience wanted to clap
they’d be met with a stern and admonishing “SHUSH!”