Nothing Like a Good Fantasy, or Desperate Times Call for Desperate Dreams

 

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[This was written in 2015 when i still had some hope. 

It is long but I thought we could use a smile.]

Scary Fairy Sherry breeches the holy vault

of the national legislature. A hush falls

as she swoops overhead, sprinkling magic dust

on the rotund, beefy-cheeked politicians.

They stop squabbling about more tax breaks

for the rich, to be paid for by  cutting services 

to the poor.

("Mr. Speaker, will someone please tell me, Mr. Speaker,

when the Right Honourable [Trudeau, Polievre, Singh]

will tell the Canadian people what the fuddle-duddle

is going on?")

The roars of approbation, fist-pounding on desks 

and derisive boos dies down. They fix their beady eyes, 

jowls quivering in consternation, on the small, 

green eco-warrior fluttering at the podium.

The security guards are uncertain of protocol.

They finger their holsters nervously, until

she shoots them a look and they desist.

You don't want to piss off a person 

with magical powers.

Scary Fairy Sherry hovers at the microphone.

"Ahem. This is to inform you that 

the Women's Revolution has begun. In a moment, 

I will strike you mute and motionless

long enough for the women of the world to get our

housekeeping done. We will send all soldiers home 

to open storage silos and feed the people. 

We will order all multinationals to pay taxes

and clean up their mess, reducing emissions to zero.

We will set to work all over Mother Earth, planting trees,

to protect, nurture and restore wildlife

and ecosystems. We will develop clean energy systems,

providing work and reversing the damage

oil-based energy has caused. There will

fricking be No More Fracking.

We recognize you are addicted to the oil energy model.

When you wake to a clean, green world, we will send

you all to treatment for detoxing and rehabilitation.

Do not worry. You will find there is another way to live.

All of this rehabbing of the earth will employ

every able body, for fair pay, ending poverty

and hopelessness world-wide. Every person

will have purpose and a means of sustaining

him or herself and their families. We will employ

sustainable-only use of resources. Task forces

will address restoration of land and sea.

Grandmothers will replace you in positions

of governance. We will make decisions based on

the well being of our grandchildren's grandchildren

to the seventh generation, not on greed, money or power.

And you can bet your sweet patooties

we will not be sending our pink-cheeked boys

into the desert with guns. Not gonna happen.

So you can feel, deal and heal. Or not.

We don't really care. We have alot of work to do

cleaning up your mess. Sweet dreams.

Nighty night."

Scary Fairy Sherry waves her wand.

The porky politicians topple over onto their desks

for a Hundred Year Snooze.

And the women of the world get to work.

Meant to be humorous, but the reality of my province experiencing drought, wildfire and emergency water restrictions makes me sad at the sensible solutions in this poem, which should have begun 40 years ago.  Sigh.

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