Spring has certainly sprung, how can I tell?
Tolling of a bell, 60° hell?
Absence of ice or a blizzard of snow,
Moonboot prints as far as the eye'll go?
Gasp! No! something far more insidious,
Vilest demon haunting each of us!
A puff of smoke, a whiff of gas that kills
First flowering buds, birds on window sills.
Servant of the state, what on concrete lie?
Three or four butts, wrappers, clean that pig sty!
Infernal grinding, black cacophony
Of filth in our eyes, morn's dark misery.
Grimy combustion, gusts kicking up dust,
Lord, our bane has returned! thy words we trust:
Run, run from the Beast, faster, not slower!
The Devil's creation, the leaf blower!