Nonsense poem for the hottest day on record, by Charlie Hill

I am not a silent poet

The world is a ball of crushed Coke cans,
my wine has a plastic-y nose,
there’s camels on Svalbard High Street,
we burn coal to help us cool down;

too much info has left us all powerless,
nematodes are sporting louche crowns,
some people go camping in cities,
as others plan day trips to the moon.

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