I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him on the Murray, years ago,
He was boating when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just on spec, addressed as follows, ‘Flannery, of The Overflow’.

And an SMS came directed from a source quite unexpected,
(And I think it was dictated from a river bank or bar)
‘Twas the Prime Minister who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
Flannery’s gone all atmospheric, and I don’t know where we are.’

With Australia Day flattery, visions come to me of Flannery
Gone a-driving ‘down to Canberra’ where the politicians go;
With the journalists and stringers, Flannery pointing with his fingers,
draws a future of disasters none of us will live to know.

And the Greens come out to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
While the politicians ponder an election to be won,
And he sees the vision horrid of our country turning florid,
With a baking sun, a rising sea and little being done.

Gazing up at Kirribilli, I wonder will the ‘Silly
Season’ finish with a whimper or a bang
Will we all start getting warm, or is this the perfect storm,
Orchestrated by Al Gore and echoed by the noisy local gang.

It seems to me Prime Minister that there is something here quite sinister
In the push to get our economics in a great big melting pot.
With the present calls for action, you will need to find some traction
For ideas that cool the hot heads so we don’t destroy our lot.

This first appeared in the latest IPA Quarterly Review, reproduced with generous permission.