Through this driving, bitter, rain,
Off to Grandma’s once again.
Sadly muted Christmas songs-
No one wants to sing along.
Only mournful background sound,
Dragging all our spirits down,
Drowned without a hesitation
By adolescent recitation
Of somber death, poetry
From the nineteenth century.
Perfect mirror for my mood-
Spending hours with this brood!
I must ask you, my old friend,
Will this winter ever end?
Three times, at least, she has endured
More than the worst that we can do.
“Earth Day” is a clear misnomer,
After all the crap this broad’s been through.
Three times she watched her children founder
And just gave birth to a life anew,
The question here for us to ponder,
Is the kind of pot in which we’ll stew.
I druther one that will sustain us
And not some other biotic goo!
So on this “Earth Day” please consider
The little things that you can do
To care for her, our earthly mother,
So she will still take care of you.
“Now don’t be hasty” to surrender
To some great, ethereal “Will”.
You have tools, and strength, and wit,
Intellect, and other skills.
Use these first, to solve your problems
Like your parents taught you to.
Go to “Will” when there’s no answer,
Dare I say it? A Kobayashi Maru?
“Thy will be done” is not the answer
To every situation faced.
We have free will and we must use it
To surrender that, is pure disgrace.
As in all things, there is a season,
Time for every purpose under heaven.
What can I say when people ask
About the nature of her “Feast”,
When I don’t know If she served him
What some may call “The Full Buffet”.
She sure did feed his Giant Ego!
Of this I’m sure, at the very least.
In the end it doesn’t matter
What people ask or what I say.
The die is cast. The damage done.
The sun has set, and in the East!
It doesn’t get more done than that!
It is over. No “Remains of this Day.”
Even if she didn’t feed him against his little will,
I am here to tell ya, she will not give us the bill.