I. Two Little
A colder town in all the world there isn’t than Yakutsk,
Where body heat cannot be found in ears or hands or footsk,
And the permafrost is permanent and all the ground is frozen,
And no hot springs are springing up to warm your tush or toes in.
On Friday it is forecast to be 42 below,
Fahrenheit or Celsius – makes no difference down that low.
The temperatures in winter there are so extremely frigid
The river’s always frozen so there’s no bridge there to bridge it;
When short-lived summer rolls around and plus-temps hit their limit,
Your only way to cross the melted river is to swim it.
Then winter roars back in again, solidifying water,
And making it impossible to live as people oughtter:
You cannot wet your whistle and you cannot spit your spittle;
You’d get “thawed under the collar” – but the temperature’s too little.
II. Two Much
Have Sochi bathrooms been designed to “double patrons’ fun”?!
Cuz you’ll find that there are two seats to a stall, instead of one.
Apparently, the privacy they cannot guarantee
Of Olympians or spectators that have to poo or pee
While waiting for the next event to run—er, go—er…finish –
Though ’f they’ve gotta go just bad enough, they’ll fastish go and winish!
Y’know, maybe they’re for doubles partners – won’t leave someone waiting:
For two-man bob or skeleton, or yikes—egad—pairs skating?!
Or maybe for biathletes on a break from where their track is:
There’s one for sitting down on, and there’s one for target practice.
I wonder…will embarrassed be the Cubans or the Haitians,
South Africans, Kuwaitis, Indonesians, or Croatians,
Mongolians, Nigerians, the British, or the Dutch?
Well …if you’re askin’ me, I say two toilets is too much.
—Two Strange Guessing