Hot Air

This idea came to me on the climate change demo in London a couple of years ago (a little ironic as this was in December and the weather was completely freezing, but of course we shouldn’t confuse weather with climate) . I thought of it as a cartoon – with Hot Air emanating from the Houses of Parliament, as the Thames slowly submerges the politicians from below – if only!

 

Hot Air

 

Trains trundle to and fro; tired travellers.

Stuffed sardines stifle in squalor.

First-class fat cats with fatter wallets

Relax, remote from the raucous riff-raff.

 

Six hundred hypocritical half-wits howl hot

Air against applications; altercations arise –

Irate imprecations, impossible implications.

Wind turbines? Not In My Back Yard!

 

Motorway madness means mollycoddling motorists

Belching bellicose blasts, bloated back-benchers

Pork on parliamentary privilege,

Gigantic guffs of hot air.

 

If only Nature could be given wings

And the Earth’s glacial warming

Measured in a five-year term.

 

When the Barrier bursts open

And foetid, algal slurry laps

Around the hems of designer suits,

Ruining pairs of Jimmy Choos,

Then, maybe, they might begin to realise.

 

Or we could take power for ourselves.

We would not have to suffer

Yet more hot air.

 


 

You can read some more of my poetry in ‘Little Red Poetry’. All proceeds go to build a new party for ordinary people, against cuts and privatisation. Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Copies are also available from Left Books

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