The other 1 percenters,
make the streets their own,
not safe for people,
(on foot, bike or pram).
Porche, Bentley, Dodge
the issue,
We don't have a problem, Houston.
The oil is still flowing.

The land is theirs to take.
Ancient rights and ancient monuments,
cast down by concrete, cash
and friends in high places.
They made the machine,
for all mankind,
that spoiled the air,
that choked the sea.

And HOW DARE THEY
complain, mewl, cry,
like tiny children
(full of chemicals)
that don’t understand
OUR needs,
OUR wants,
hour after hour of pleasure.

Offshore wind in tidy ranks,
spoils the view,
from my beachfront hideaway,
and private 9 holes.
Burn the carbon,
heat the pool,
ignite the planet.
Polluters have rights too.

(With thanks to Howies)