Fouling The Nest Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Soft green English light over
Fens and broads and reaches
Where the reed warbler nests.

There are mayflies and midges
Rising above nurturing waters
Fringed by rushes and willows

And the cock warbler sings
To his lifelong lover-partner
As she makes a nest for their chicks.

Tranquil … idyllic … come to mind,
As Sir David Attenborough intones
Quintessential pastoral lyricism.

Except that there is a villain here
Who robs our lovers of their part
And lays a trail of trickery and deceit.

Similarly, it seems there are among us
Gowks or cuckoos who are stealing
Paradise with mimicry and subterfuge

Whose monstrous demands for more
Run us ragged feeding gawping maws
And their bloated demands and expectations

Pushing our own children out of the future
Heaving sustainability and fairness over the edge
So that they can take all and give nothing.

One could be forgiven for the conjecture
That these parasites may be implanted aliens
Who are cuckolding the world with counterfeits

To ensure that its environment morphs and warps
To better sustain their kind with necessary toxicity -
Such that those who feed them may face a wasteland.