Brimstone Poem by Catherine Casey

'It's only a caldera.'

Are these words to reassure?

Extinction and volcanoes.

Which way round? Please tell us more.



'It's down to plate tectonics'.

Right. So we have no control?

'The magma camber's rising.

Demonstration - brimstone bowl.



It's not apocalyptic

Till the planets are aligned.

Then gravity takes over

And the rest is ill-defined.



Effective algorithms

Say we have a while just yet.

Some neophytes may reason

That it's safe to put a bet.



Ignore the sound of fracking

And the steam vents drastic plume.

The clamour and the vapours

indicate it's not that soon.



Hold tiller handle steady

Watch the sunrise. Book a cruise.

Escalating earthquakes

Oh! You've nothing much to lose.



We have a handle on it.

Pyroclastic? No - secure.

Though certain hillside structures

No more primogeniture.



Concengenious rumblings

Are milder than expected.

Assuredly we tell you

'Low tide is not connected'.



Tsunamis are quite normal

This building can take an eight.

The magnitude's increasing

So Charles. F can stay till late.



Okay, we admit the truth -

The ring of fire is blowing.

We only have five minutes

And fear of death is growing.



Somehow we received a note

And then held it upside down.

If not for alacrity

Our grimace would wear a frown.





So thanks for bearing with us

The first ripple's on its way.

Get pictures from your attic.

Fill your hamster cage with hay.



We're waiting for announcement

The White house on the phone?

A PPI recording

Asking if we've broke a bone.



Far too many megatons

Molten lava, brimstone, ash.

Is heading up the valley

For conflagration crash.



What use a ten foot bunker

When Earth's crust is turned to steam?

Is that ringing alarm clock?

Let's just hope it's all a dream'.