And onto today’s climate forecast,
where we can expect to see a prolonged spell of inaction,
interspersed with patches of hazy promises
across many areas.
Over Westminster and other centres of government,
a build-up of hot air will cause inactivity
to soar to record levels over the coming days,
in spite of the high pressure.
Elsewhere, a front of chronic misinformation
will sweep in from the east,
bringing with it a band of climate change deniers
and the chance of scattered falsehoods,
while powerful gusts of idiocy and ignorance
look set to blow across social media.
Outbreaks of ‘We just got on with it in 1976’
and ‘It’s called the British summer, mate’ are likely.
In summary: unsettling.
After the last ee
had uzzed its last uzz,
the irds and the utterflies
did what they could.
ut soon the fields lay are,
few flowers were left,
nature was roken,
and the planet ereft.
A bottle with a message
floated in upon the tide.
The sea is blue and so am I,
said the note inside.
Next day on the beach,
a plastic bag washed up.
Inside, another letter:
Come rescue me. I’m stuck.
In the kelp, a cry for help:
drowning in Styrofoam,
written on a coffee cup,
beneath Latte 4 Jerome.
The day after, thin tubes
were spread along the shore,
spelling out the words:
T H E F I N A L S T R A W.
Two weeks on, the beach was plastic.
Itself, an unanswered message:
castaways washed up on the sand,
and out to sea, the wreckage.