Welcome to Hockey Diaries, where Pass it to Bulis columnist Chris Nash breaks into the multi-million-dollar Yaletown homes of various Canucks, and pilfers an entertaining selection of their innermost thoughts.
These are the diaries of Nikita Tryamkin.
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A Sonnet of Sorrow, by Nikita Tryamkin
“Nikita Smash!” or Nikita traded.
Or more likely, Nikita sent back to
Russia in a crate. Dear friends, please eschew
my anguish, lest you too become jaded.
I am the Sovetskiy Soyuz, fated
to swing my hammering hands to crush you
into dust, and to skate my sickled-shoes
to re-carve the coldest war, now faded.
Did anyone consider that maybe
Nikita would rather search the forest
floor for the perfect maple leaf? That his
life would be complete teaching mute baby
birds to charm the heavens with their chorus?
Nikita is the sweetest one there is.
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