I saw Jim at Two Amigos Sitting at the bar, Stick-handling a coaster. He was a hockey star, Showed it when he smiled; His nose a puck. He tells stories Of blood freezing on ice, Jersey pulls and sweat, Body checks and corners. He drives the zamboni, Making the ice sheet a giant mirror. The crowds cheer Jim To get off the ice, Let the game begin. He speeds his machine To the far end doors, Vanishing down the tunnel. He's just ordered a double boiler-maker, Stirs his whiskey with a swizzle-stick, And slaps back another shot.