Green thumb in a concrete jungle,
Hydroponic hustle with a rooftop rumble,
He called it gravity, a liquid phenomenon,
Feeding the petunias while the neighbor's lawn's gone.
Sustainable flow, no pipes, no plastic,
The physics of the plumbing was truly drastic.
Oh, the Golden Waterfall is coming down,
The highest irrigation in this Brooklyn town,
He’s saving on the water bill, one arc at a time,
An eco-friendly vision or a public health crime?
Wait, that’s not rainwater.
Gram for the organic spray,
Until the wind shifted the wrong damn way.
It wasn't a pump or a high-tech filter,
Just a man and his bladder, everything's off-kilter.
He’s a liquid architect, a sovereign of the drain,
Brooklyn’s own Cloud seeding without any rain.
Seriously, close your windows.
