Figment

We know that the fierce heat
We are currently enduring
Is a case of the new normal
As the biosphere seeks equilibrium
For a climate disrupted
By excessive amounts
Of greenhouse gases.
In the short time we have been here
We have wrought planetary havoc
And imperiled our chances
Of continuing as a species.
We realize that we must act decisively
And emphatically
To avert a climate apocalypse
Yet those who reap profits
From despoiling our world
And jeopardizing our existence
Refuse to abandon
Their bioicidal pursuit of wealth
Pretending that the crisis
Is a figment of our imaginations.
But the real figment is their smug assumption
That however hot it gets
The tiny, snivelling gods of money and air conditioning
Will keep them cool and safe from harm.

Buff Whitman-Bradley’s new book is At the Driveway Guitar Sale, from Main Street Rag Publishing. He podcasts poems on aging, memory, and mortality at thirdactpoems.podbean.com and lives in northern California with his wife, Cynthia. Read other articles by Buff.