Cop Out

they patted themselves on the back
they hugged and kissed and redfaced clapped
vin rouge and gore, the bishop stunned by elevation
barrack for more, barrack for more
whose words rise high, it’s a shame that his feet are planted
six feet down, holding the world up like a week kneed Atlas
you’re no Greek god, you’re just a lying sod
billionaire bought, but your credit is nought.

All were oiled and dined, Carnegie smiled and mimed
Paul raised the Saudi curse, stated that it could be worse
But he said we’ll clean our oil, we’ll only burn the best part of it
I think David must have thought that he was in a Hugh Grant movie
And all the while Deborah, mother hen, foul if you like
clucked as if she had f&^$ed us over

they smiled, they sourired, their lip corners cracked

I never got around to finishing this one, written in Paris in 2015, after attending some of the sessions at the back of the conference, the ones the public were allowed to visit.

#climatechange #poetry #cop21