The Ballad Of Brook

Ohhh gather ye tenants, draw near and attend, To a tale of two heroes the ice could not bend: Of Michael and River, brave wardens of rent, Who faced frozen doom where the trash man won’t venture. At Brook Apartments, where winter reigns king, The parking lot shimmered like a cursed skating rink. Even trucks spun their wheels in a tragic ballet— Reverse became myth. Forward? Not today. Enter our champions with shovel and bin, Slipping like penguins with managerial grit. They skidded and slid with heroic finesse, Hauling trash bags through crystalline stress. “To the dumpster!” cried River, with valor so bold, While Michael moonwalked on the frostbitten cold. They braved nature’s trap with municipal pride, Performing OSHA-defying icecapades wide. They hacked at the sidewalk with shovels of might— Clang! went the metal, thwack! went the fight— But the ice just laughed in a villainous tone, Like, “Nice try, mortals, this path is my throne.” Still onward they trudged through the slick glassy land, With garbage and courage in each trembling hand. Where the trash man was stopped by the Arctic’s decree, Our managers stepped in like knights of debris. So raise up your mugs (of cocoa or tea), For Michael and River, Who slipped for our sake and shoveled in vain, Doing battle with winter, with grit… and back pain. And should future tenants sing of this perilous night, Let them rhyme of the heroes who slipped for what’s right— Not for gold nor for glory nor kingdom nor crown, But to get all our trash to the dumpster… somehow.