Once upon a day, so bright and fine
Walked Chicken B. Little. A scientist, mind!
“The sky is blue,” he said, “but I am not.”
“For I know much, quite quite a lot.”
His head was in the sky
So he did not espy
The sleeping fellow lying by
the soft grass near the pine.
Chicken Little tripped!
“I am vexed,” he said, “Truly hipped!”
“Who knew the woods would be so rich in people!
They stack up in a great ugly heap hill!”
So Chicken B. Little thought and he mused:
His brilliant mind was naught confused.
“What accounts for this human pollution?
I think I have the simple solution.”
He shouted and cried and then he out-louded,
“The natural world is way over crowded!”
He wrote his revelations down
And brought them straight in to town,
Right to Henny Penny, publisher of books,
Who said, “Ok, I will take a look see.”
“If what you say is true, the world is in for trouble.
And with global warming our trouble is really double!”
The pair rushed the warning words into print
Where they became an instant, chilling hit.
They were read by Cocky Locky, activist,
Who said, “We must tax, tax, tax, I insist!”
“Tax and regulation are the only true solutions
That can really rid us of these human pollutions.”
He said, “There is ample precedent
For us to warn the president!”
So the three ran off to arouse those far and near
And tell them that the end was almost here.
They soon met Turkey Lurkey, who was up for re-election.
He said, “My vote will be our ammunition
In the fight against those damned deniers;
Those oily fat-cats, rogues and liars!”
As they considered what to do,
Up walked Foxy Loxy, who ran an NGO.
“I can help you boys fund your cause
All you need do is sign this clause,
And promise fealty to that great -ism
Which the best of us call socialism.”
“What is this thing called socialism?” asked the troop.
“What does it mean? Can it help our group?”
“It is only for the brightest lights
For those who are sure they’re aways right.
It would put forever and ever in charge
Those whose minds are exceptionally large.”
Each of the four said, “That’s for me!”
Because to find some wiser cannot be.
How perfect, how wonderful and marvelously sublime
If the world were run on scientific lines!”
As they were cooing and comparing IQs,
The Fox said, “Come, all! Let’s join the queue!
We’ll finish the deal in my dark lair.
(It only looks dark; it is actually fare.)”
So down they all went, in one long line,
trusting themselves and thinking, “O, How fine!”
When the door finally closed and all the lines signed
The Fox ate them up: My, how he dined!
But he was not sated; he hungered still.
If only more bodies could add to his mill.
Where could he go to find the great minds
Who would fain rule over all of mankind?
It was then he remembered that great invention
The human-caused change of climate convention!
A little doggerel never hurt anybody. Thus, I have no compunction dedicating this poem to Anne Ehrlich, who has taken up her father’s burden of telling the world that it is nearly finished.