Pastures Green - Poem by gershon hepner
Sir Having Greedy, Lord Luxurious
Are Spendthrifts, and their lives are spurious,
Creating Cities of Destruction.
From acts of Waste and Sad Seduction
They overload the Sanitation,
Within the town of Vanitation,
Which, founded by Beelzebub,
Has now become a Hellsy Hub
Of overuse of all Resources
That’s triggered by the Darker Forces.
They fill up every Landfill, Dump, shun
A Physic for their Great Consumption.
They don’t despond as they all slough
Detritus, never say, “Enough! ”
The Snow that falls the end of March
Or collars that constrict with starch.
They think that if they pave the Earth,
Resources will still have no Dearth.
As they ride on the Treadmill Cycle,
They say: “Let’s excercise, recycle
The products of Egregious Wealth,
Make Money even from our Filth! ”
Their Luxuries without a limit
Pollute the Sunless Air and dim it,
So each year we lose more Green Pastures.
Those left are browner far than last year’s,
Except those Artificial Slopes
Where they now bury used-up hopes,
Detergent cartons, plates with grime,
And paper which, in New York time
They build like Pyramids of Giza.
Muck’s where Environmental Fees are,
And where there’s Muck there now is Money;
Some think it’s Tragic, but it’s Funny.
I fear next year won’t be a Sunny One,
That’s Progress, Pilgrims - poor John Bunyan!
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