by Sandy Guy Schoenfeld
(With apologies to William Henley)
Out of the haze that covers me,
Carbon crud from pole to pole,
I thank whoever they may be,
For inventing smog control.
Thought it cost me fifteen bucks,
I have not winced but feel quite proud,
Hot tears no longer stream from ducts,
Because of a cancer cloud.
It matters not how the Giants do,
And the cold war can’t wrinkle my brow,
For my only care is for good, clean O2,
Maybe there’ll be some now.