Al Gore Doesn’t Recycle Poem by John F. McCullagh

“Use it up, wear it out
Make it do- or do without-“
My mother was a child
of the Depression.

Her carbon footprints were quite small
As she never drove at all
She didn’t fly
Or like to air condition.

Al Gore, on the other hand,
Just pretends to be the man.
He heats his house with oil
and it’s a mansion.

He drives an S.U.V.
when he comes to lecture me
On inconvenient truths
of earths’ condition.

It’s the scandal of the age
this environmental sage
Uses private jets
to get to his appointments.

I’m awaiting Tipper’s book
About this eco crook
It’s a tell all titled:
Al Gore won’t Recycle