Oscar the Grouch Recycles
I don't wear pants, sing or count.
The galvanized plastic taps the
indiscretions of Elmo and the humans.
Bannana peels, moldy bird seed and
dry Count Chocular bars crowd around me.
Soon, I'll be on Hoarders: Buried Alive.
Don't be like me-the parents say.
The Baker Street dump-far from this place
crushes lessons and crayons.
The only trash here is me.
No comments:
Post a Comment