RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL WARMING
127 Degrees
127 degrees Fahrenheit in New Delhi
The hottest ever in the month of May
For as long as temperatures have been recorded
Do not let your children go out to play
For the seasons now are grossly distorted
Imagine a heat that rolls in waves
Just imagine the way it feels
You blame the sun for its brutal rays
You are certain it is not real
It beats you down like a runaway slave
Like a pain that never heals
One hundred twenty-seven degrees in May
How hot will it be come summer
Crops will fail, emotions will fray
The dumb will become even dumber
And no one knows what happens then
In the months of desperation
We’ll beg and plead to breathe again
We’ll remember that cool sensation
We will not look back at where we’ve been
We’ll pretend it never occurred
But there was a time we remember when
Our destruction was not assured
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