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Poem: What's the Hurry?

Bob Lorenson

March 2024

If the ozone hole don’t get us then the global warming will,

And the odds of doing something are approximately nil.

While the scientists are yapping,

All the governments are napping,

And the CEOs are clapping,


Who really thinks that climate change can kill?


While there’s still a drop of oil left, it’s Drill Baby Drill!

Despite the Greenie voices that are sounding rather shrill.

But the money is not lacking,

And with governmental backing,

They will keep on with their fracking,


What’s another pipeline spill?


The forests are all bleeding their green streams of chlorophyll,

All the carbon is escaping and the fauna’s looking ill.

But in bungle after bungle,

We’re still chopping down the jungle,

Leaving nothing but the fungal,


Who cares what really happens in Brazil? 


All the congressmen are smiling as they show how well they shill,

For the dirty coal executives with “clean coal” on the bill.

Whether people cry collusion,

Or dig out from their delusion,

Old King Coal needs a transfusion,


Who needs another blasted hill?


The arctic ice is nearly gone, it’s really quite a thrill,

To search the North Pole waters, for old Santa’s domicile.

Though the children all seem worried,

That their future will be buried,

Father Christmas won’t be hurried,


What future will the children have to fill?


So throw away your sweaters you’ll no longer feel the chill,

And say hello to the ocean from your new home on the hill.

While it may seem like disaster,

We’re assured we’re still the Master,

And can fix this problem faster,


Aren't we just moving from the fire to the grill?


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Bob Lorentson is a writer and retired environmental scientist. His latest book is You Only Go Extinct Once (Stuck in the Anthropocene with the Pleistocene Blues Again).

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