Seussing Out the Transfer Station
One trash, two trash.
Red trash, blue trash.
Black trash, goo trash.
Old trash, new trash.
That guy has a lot of jars!
This one has a filled-up car.
Say! What a lot of c**p there are.
Yes, some recycle, some just dump.
One man’s treasure’s another’s junk.
Some unclad, and some trash Glad-
(bagged). Some DISGUSTING, gross—Egad!
Why are they mad when fees are had?
Punch-card costs are not that bad.
From dump to here, from here to there,
Funny things are everywhere.
Here are some who like to run,
For local office—NOT much fun.
Saturdays open, Wednesdays too,
We congregate to see who’s who.
Some campaigning,
Others grouse,
We’re just feigning
Cleaning house.
The bears would have a feast or three,
If they had money for the fee.
The “dump” is just the place to be,
But “transfer station’s” more P.C.
The “leave and take” is mostly take,
Grab that chair! It MIGHT not break.
My batteries and hazmat stuff?
Just twice a year – but that’s enough.
Junk has filled my little car,
Gossip finds me from afar,
Say, what a lot folks there are!
The sticker fee is worth it, though.
I’ve cleaned my house, from head to toe.
And got the news, from all the town,
Our transfer station’s world renowned.
—Robin Foley
West Bare Hill Road
