The killer to be, Her infinitely varied blues Muted to black By the midnight sky, Dances slowly, rhythmically Along the shoreline, Singing a gentle lullaby To the deserted dunes. Beautiful, hypnotic display Hard to reconcile With her tempest temper, When welcoming arms Become hammers of destruction, Sending swimmers and fishermen Scurrying for cover. She is the ocean, Symbol of the cycles Of the natural world. Seemingly constant, Yet subtly changing, Left unchecked, She could swallow the world. The politician, Cadaver-thin vulture With talon fingers, Paces his study in City Hall, Bulbous eyes glued To a flickering TV, Listening with disdain As scientists rant— Criticize, spread their lies— Sanctimonious drivel For impressionable fools. Enemies should be known, But he’s heard enough, Stabs at his remote To cut them off. He closes the curtains On a record snowfall That has turned The city glistening white, Flops into an armchair With a glass of port. Climate change does not exist! Who would win in a wrestling match— Man or water?
Copyright © 2023 C. J. Carter-Stephenson
C. J. Carter-Stephenson is a UK writer, who was born in the county of Essex and currently lives on the Isle of Wight. He holds an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Southampton, has been a Writers of the Future finalist, and has had three books published. Other publication credits include stories and/or poems in Aesthetica, Möbius, Writers Muse, AE: The Canadian Science Fiction Review, Speculative North, Youth Imagination, Dark Horizons, The Fifth Di... and Illumen. He is also the narrator of Back of the Bookshelf, a monthly podcast of classic genre fiction.