Wednesday, January 22, 1997


Walking thro’ the lot
On my return from lunch;
I’m a little late, so
There are people about, but not a bunch.

For some reason unknown,
Everyone is quiet and silent.
I would have noticed never
If not for my talent.

Suddenly a sound – what could it be?
As I turn to look and see
What has so startled me,
I gaze upon a box from the Queen, Dairy.

The wind blows, the trees wave
Leaves – I think they are – rustle
Sorry…no I am wrong
It is things left behind by people in a bustle.

People too lazy – or too busy –
To pack it along to the next can.
“The power is yours,” so says Cap. Planet
Which means quite simply, “Anyone can!”

These lots for parking are now known
By a name so disturbing to man
That he contributes more to the name of
These: The school yard WASTElands.

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