Apparently, Al Gore has branched out from inventing the internet and making millions selling carbon credits to morons, to writing poetry. Former Vice President, Nobel Prize winner, poet, and human tree. Is there anything Al Gore can’t do? Via Weasel Zippers, here’s Al Gore’s precious little poem:
One thin September soon
A floating continent disappears
In midnight sun
Vapors rise as
Fever settles on an acid sea
Neptune’s bones dissolve
Snow glides from the mountain
Ice fathers floods for a season
A hard rain comes quickly
Then dirt is parched
Kindling is placed in the forest
For the lightning’s celebration
Take their leave, unmourned
Horsemen ready their stirrups
Passion seeks heroes and friends
The bell of the city
On the hill is rung
The shepherd cries
The hour of choosing has arrived
Here are your tools
Look out, Robert Frost! Eat it, Sylvia Plath! You’ve now met your match! But of course, it’s not just the words written by great poets that make them titans, it’s their ability to inspire the rest of us mere mortals. That’s why Al Gore is such a hero — because he has spurred even a right wing troglodyte like me to try my hand at poetry:
It came to me in a hideous dream
an ugly, scarred, screaming thing
they called it Manbearpig, Manbearpig!
It would swallow the snow and pee out acid rain
defecate fire, and belch out greenhouse gasses of pain
Oh Manbearpig, Manbearpig!
It was invisible to some, tricked by its lies
but other liberals saw it and they gave me a Nobel Prize
for fighting Manbearpig, Manbearpig!
It’s how I got my big mansion and my private plane
my bank account of millions and the UN praising my name
Thank you Manbearpig, my imaginary friend, Manbearpig!
Now those Climategate emails are stealing my thunder
How can I make money if people think Cap and Trade is a blunder
Where are you Manbearpig, throw me a winter heatwave, Manbearpig!