Bob Lorentson


What’s the Hurry?

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?

With Big Oil and its backers shouting Drill Baby Drill!
They can drown the Greenie voices that are sounding rather shrill.
For the money is not lacking,
And with governmental backing,
They will keep on with their fracking,
What’s so bad about 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,
What’s a mountain when there’s all that coal to mill?

The arctic ice is melting and it’s really quite a thrill,
To search the North Pole waters for old Santa’s domicile.
Though the children freeze with fear,
Since his future isn’t clear,
Polar cruise ship captains cheer,
Why can’t Santa simply learn another skill?

So throw away your sweaters—you’ll no longer feel the chill,
And greet the rising 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,
Why the fuss about that baby with a gill?

Bob Lorentson‘s humorous poems have appeared in Better Than Starbucks, Parody, Lighten Up Online, and of course Light. He lives in rural Connecticut, which at present seems like a reasonably safe place to escape such natural disasters as Presidential rallies and the coming apocalypse. He’ll take the gypsy moth plagues any day.