I weep
bitter tears
when drought
breaking rain
is forecast
and I get
just a little
bit less than
bugger all
I weep
bitter tears
when drought
breaking rain
is forecast
and I get
just a little
bit less than
bugger all
There is a real world
described by science;
and then there are
many imaginary worlds,
described by religion,
and politics,
and astrology,
and the media,
and psychics,
and economists,
and ideology,
and common
sense.
The fog
of war,
the smoke
of climate
change
Politicians
and journalists
always demand to
know, and then
reject, the cost of
measures to conserve
the environment.
But neither ever
ask the cost
of war.
This is the way the world ends,
with the bang of a
million trees exploding,
with the whimper of a
thousand koalas dying,
and unbreathable smoke,
and blowing dust,
and drying earth,
and drying rivers,
and a howling wind,
and a bloody Sun,
and a feeling of
utter helplessness.
Having an online
map of bushfires
in this state,
constantly
updated,
is good because
it keeps you
informed about
what is burning.
It is bad
because it keeps
you informed about
what is burning.
Viewed from afar,
in ignorance,
really, and with
no dog in the hunt,
no skin in the game,
no horse in the race,
it seems to me
that America has
recently refought
her Civil War,
but this time
the South won.
Every morning
I awake wondering
if this is the day
a million red
horses of the
apocalypse
will come galloping
over the western hills.
Watching Spring
end and Summer
begin is like
saying goodbye
to visiting friends
and seeing an
enemy coming
up the street.
When did
blind faith
in imaginary
beings become
a virtue,
and seeing
the truth
of science
a failing?