Poem to Gaia: "Our Resident Says, "Adjust!"

Our Resident Says, “Adjust!”

By les Aaron
Editor, Hubgram

{copywrited
May not be reprinted without the express permission of the author}

His Party Royal
Immersed in profits from black Oil
Talks deceptively about notions like Democracy
Ashcroft, too, speaks of things like Equality
A notion that this chest-threatened creature has transformed into parody
While treading pondorously on
Our liberties
In acts of wanton hypocrisy

Things seem to go from bad to worse
Is that the old man’s curse?
His progeny
A litany of bad ideas from a half-formed mind
Have contributed to our present bind
What we got
is not a lot
Indebtedness and market spin
A loss for us; for them, a win
It’s what happens
when you sell your soul
And sink below the toilet bowl

And as each attempts to cover his posterior
we are condemned to a government inferior
A government that cannot say
It’s not in bed with the NRA
A government in confusion
A government that knows collusion
Skilled at ‘end-runs’ and Enron’s
A un-Lincoln government for the few
Leaving future generations
With a.A 'balance due'......

The earth has already turned to dust
Small farmers are going bust
And, yet, our president says 'adjust'

Tropical diseases spread
Leaving us with consuming dread
We see bacteria a'forming...
Another incident of global warming?

Pacific islands disappear
That were once here
Gone beneath the sea
Could nature be saying something
to you and me?

While Nature they despise
Tides continue to rise
And the Cadre denies;
Nature spins out of control
As west winds blow
Is something happening
we should know?

And yet rather than speak up,
Like lemmings hesitant
We emulate our uninvolved Resident
And all that’s become
Painfully evident


Our ‘compassionate conservative’ looks ’round
To see the whole place looking drowned
there is water three foot deep
the sheep and cattle cannot sleep
Iron quickly turns to rust
Stupid of us
Not to adjust

There are light rays bearing down
A new kind of cancer says Dr. Brown
The trees are dying from the drought
No lines adorned with healthy trout
Not one drop falling from the spout
Produce withers on the vine
while our leader says ‘It's not yet time.’

The winds tear across the plain
In the East, there's ceaseless rain
As chunks of ice the size of a state
Break free, Bush ignores the debate
What will happen to you and me….

Is Global Warming really true?
Or should we just avoid the view....
Are ozone layers depressingly real
Or just an anomoly we happen to feel

Should we worry about erosion
Or should we concentrate on a terrorist explosion?
Should we show concern
For land lost
Surrendering to sixty mile winds
And angry seas tossed..

Do we act about things that pollute
Or would that be too absolute?
Do we take a chance with fate
Or do we continue to remediate

Questions...questions for the ultimate test
Unanswered by those seemingly possessed
Not with some prophetic vision
But simply by pipeline transmission

Yesterday, bush acknowledged it was true
And how we solve it is up to you....
It’s easy to acknowledge
That this affront to knowledge
Will serve up more swill
And somehow the burden will fall
As you know, on Hillary and Bill
Have no fear
It’s very clear
That the buck will never stop here….
This guy who resembles Alfred E. Neuman
Will never be another Truman

Never expect this government to toil
To help protect your soil
And irrespective of what you've been told
Global warming will leave us feeling very cold!

Of course, we were slow to understand
That the bottom line takes precedence
Over your well-being,
Or even your residence

Keep that in mind, folks, when it's time to vote
should this same motley crew win
I’ll toss back another gin
And You'd better hock the car
and buy a boat

There's a lesson here
For when small minds rule
Who disavow lessons learned in school
That the way to distinction
Is not to be bought with our own extinction

It's plain and true
That he who ignores the Principle Gaia
Foresakes the many for the few
All good reason
to say a prayer....
And then let’s hope it’s heard somewhere

For we’re sad to say
In Washington these days
No attention will they pay
Until we need to pack
For a Galaxy far, far away!



les aaron
hubmaster