Certain Chicago neighborhoods have a higher body count than Afghanistan and Iraq combined, and has gotten so bad that Illinois politicos have called for the National Guard to patrol the streets to protect the few law-abiding citizens from the drug dealers and the gangbangers. Others decry the notion of using force, claiming that turning the front yards and vacant lots into gardens will cause a wondrous change in the criminal mind. Of course the Green Power people who want gardens to bloom also want a bundle of money to come their way so they can implement their nebulous theory. But then, it’s all about money, and always was. But can gardens work? I don’t see why not. Aren’t those gangbangers always talking about their hoes?

 

 

Gee, Officer Krupke, I want you to know

I’ve given up killings for flowers to grow

I love these new green jobs, I find that they’re so

Rewarding for me and my hoe

My brothers all snicker and grin as they please

But wait till they see all my limas and peas

They’ve never seen pumpkins and squash such as these

The ladies they flirt and they tease

No need for to call out the National Guard

Just give us the tools and we’ll flower each yard

Giving up smack and the killing is hard

But it’s good times for me and my pard

We’ve given up wearing caps backward on head

For sensible headgear that’s groovy instead

My homeys are jealous, I’m making some bread

And maybe I’ll wind up not dead

I thank all the people who look after me

They give me so much, virtually all I can see

Without them I say I don’t know where I’d be

And it’s nice to know all of it’s free

Yes, Officer Krupke, I’ve learned how to sow

And tie pretty flowers up in a neat bow

These green jobs just give me a feeling of glow

So rewarding for me and my hoe