Thursday, February 24, 2011

Free-Range Poet

I’m not one to boast
But my particular footprint’s
Even tinier than an infant’s
While deeper than most

Naturally I take umbrage
When accused of eco-sins
Others measure like wins
And losses beyond garbage

Disposal and the arousal
Doing right will sometimes
Grant in fact if the crimes
Seem not egregiously foul

Like video sorties for one’s
Mother’s milk-sweet Reich
While I’m pedaling my bike
To charge up the cadmium

Cells of my multi-unit
Battery forced on me since
It’s my last very chance
For a current and with it

A lit-up life.  Sure, it makes
Me feel more ethical not
On the payroll but a lot
More world-weary awake.

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