Climate Change (The Truth) Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

From geezers down to pimply teens
a few do fancy proper beans.
Though education is much needed
authorities have just conceded
that climate change reversed its course
it's getting colder, well, my horse
and I, we have the proper means
to do our part by eating beans.
Each bean is one small piece of art,
each bean creates at least one fart.
Together, all the farts will rise
up to the Gods (inside the skies) ,
there, once received, they are compressed
inside huge cylinders, then blessed.
You see, ye Gods prefer aromas
that don't put butterflies in comas,
thus all the gas gets sent to earth
where valves then open, giving birth
to carbon in its gaseous state
which smells a bit, but, (ask my mate) ,
makes plants grow big and juicy leaves,
and, in the night, like silent thieves,
they warm the earth and all its creatures,
so listen not to biased teachers
or experts who have floppy ears
(if British they drink heated beers) ,
all change does not depend on smarts
in case of climate, it's the farts.