A poetic look at global waste and consumerism—where eco-awareness meets sarcasm of the comfort of a climate-controlled bed. It came to me after watching a documentary, think called “Buy More” and imagining how a typical consumer would react to it.

Heal the planet, the movie said,
As I lay warm in my comfy bed.
The heating hummed, a voice droned on—
Images colourful, but my attention none.

Of bottles cracked near child’s lost shoe,
The wind dragging bags past lonely yew.
Nearby, a red pot rinsed by sea—
Thousands of years will be here to see.

Wonderful, beautiful, colourful beach,
Of clothes not in fashion, already ditched.
A shoelace here, and there—a bra.
No sand remains. Just textile tar.

Next to the beach, on battered ground,
Silicon peaks by the metric pound.
Where seasoned hands extract the wee,
Microns of gold which will set them free.

Their masks are thin, the air is dead,
Each breath they take, a kind of dread.
And still I scroll, in cotton bliss,
Debating which scented candle to miss.

The doc is scary, the plot a woe,
But shopping makes my spirit glow.
Who needs to act, or think, or feel,
When change is just too hard a deal?