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Power Outage
Power is out! - hear Ye! Power is gone!
Out the apartment buildings people burst,
Who did this to us? - Lo! - Con Edison?
Folks ask up in The Bronx and Bensonhurst.
Tranmission lines, some say, are far too few,
This power outage is the most severe,
Oh misery! - another déjà vu,
If looting starts, we’ll sue now is that clear?
Across the bridges weary masses roll,-
Those that escaped the elevator traps,
And crawled along dark tunnels, without toll,
Beneath the river bed- some did collapse
And then, another thing, - how does it feel,
To march in crowds in the hot burning sun,
In trendy bumps with fashionable heel,
Should need arise, it would be tough to run
But barefoot marching neither feels so good,
The ankles swell, like fire burn the soles,
Without a drop of water and some food,
Upon the asphalt burning hot like coals.
A lady with spiked heels and parched dried lips,
Is being handed something none can see,
Praised be the Lord! a loafer’s pair of skips,-
This thing is called “New Yorker charity!”.
But in the borough streets some vans pass through,
From which a voice (the Mayor’s??) shouts aloud:
“Folks! throw your food stuff out, else you will rue,
Be sorry with a diarrhea bout.”
“Get candles, matches, flashlights, folks come on !
They’r working on the problem, so folks do
As you are told,- - you hear? -Con Edison
Is readying a skilled electric crew!”
This outage may be just a simple plot,
That favors those with worthy ways and means,-
Quebec has power,- Ontario has not
Because the former grow by far more beans
Is it the power barons and the Greens, dear Greens!
That so object to more transmission lines,
For they prefer to see a patch of beans
And unobstructed view of grazing kine.
What can I say to those that do oppose
To new dependable transmission lines?
For these good folks I simply would propose,
To grow more beans and tall high creeping vines,
And then entreat the darling Greens to please
plug their electric gadgets into Trees.
