Ode To The Holy Cross Maintenance Crew Poem by JoAnn McGrath

Holy Cross Maintenance Crew
We're a bunch of buckaroos
Or maybe tools
Or even fools
But sometimes we get it right

Don't ever come in late
It might just be your fate
You won't at all be pleased
When your outside pulling weeds
A sunburn in sunlight

We do so many chores
Like waxing all the floors,
scraping and painting a wall,
raking leaves that fall
or stripping screws when tight

We're a bunch of grunts
and when we take our lunch
the time may slip away
Cause we would rather play
and not be so uptight

We have the tape ball of fame
and play so many games
Like s-ball, k-ball, and loser
We are an easy amuser
It's the lunchtime or end highlight

You may see us cleaning hard
In bathroom, lunchroom, or yard
Sometimes the chore's a fuss
The smells are malodorous
but to leave it would be impolite

The lunch floor will get a 10
Only, when Doug does his Zambonie Zen
We shovel the snow and salt
While Doug plows the big asphalt
then blows away all the white

So here's to the Maintenance Crew
If we were aloud to have a brew
We would raise a toast
to who drinks the most
and tell stories into the night.


(JoAnn/11 April 2007)