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!
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