Christmas Mass

It’s hard to say exactly when
A sleigh may slide this way again
With global climate change and all.
Ask Santa Claus for something small
Or, more precisely, low in mass:
Runners stick unless they pass
With friction’s coefficient low,
And that ain’t easy absent snow.
Christmas magic may win through
But just in case, use physics, too.

Sweater Weather

The point of exercise, I think,
Is making people want to drink
That daily dose of eight times eight
Fl. ounces doctors say’s so great.
I know for sure that I’d forget
If I’d not lost four pounds* in sweat
To counter what I’ll soon have downed.

*16 ounces: 1 wet pound

Assuming Standard Gravity

Slugs have feet
But slug has foot,
Around which sometimes
Fringe is put.
They’re mostly mantle,
Tail, and slime,
Plus tentacles,
And what’s sublime
Is, when you slice
A slug you’ve found,
1/32^nd weighs a pound!
For which fact we’ve
Bored Brits to thank.
The things we learn
When weather’s dank!

That’s A Ton Of Nickels!

What’s ten thousand dollars, by weight?
Well, take away nine twenty-eight,
Then 15 cents more.
Now, stack on the floor
The remainder, in nickels. Done? Great!

Nine thousand seventy-one
Eighty-five, all in nickels. What fun!
With five grams of mass
In each coin, it’s a gas
That their gross weight (on earth) is one ton!