An inane, freeverse poem, meant to capture my amusement at the idea of Blaze Zamboni. At first I imagined some employer calling him Zamboni (think "Weatherby") as he grit his teeth, but I think this is a bit better. I ran out of ideas at the end.

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Some call me Blaise,

Others, Blasé or Blasie,

My last name is often Zambini

I've been a girl, and a boy

Occasionally both at once

And sometimes one, then the other

The trouble, I find

Is getting it right

No one seems to admit

My real name, of course,

Is not even Zabini

But, naturally, Blaze Zamboni!

Yes, I smooth the ice

And make it clean

For skaters far and wide

My family's ancestral occupation

Is all I aspire to perform

But unless I turn from the Dark Lord

I'll only be icing Dark Ponds.