Town Planning Poem by Alan Bruce Thompson

The richest ones in our town,
Are those who always tear it down.

The second richest group,
Are those who build it up.

To repair one lamp we close a whole street,
And make an hour's job last a week.

We'll terrorize the town with our noise and dust
And insist our great show is a need, a must!

We'll dig a big hole, then fill a hill,
We don't overemploy, we just overbill.

We'll build a designer wall of solid gold,
The next day we'll tear it down because it's too old.

During building, going slow is one of our tricks,
By demolition, we work fast to steal our own bricks.