Andrew Frewin Wilson

“It needn’t be tinder, this juncture of the year”
—Conor O’Callaghan, January Drought

I – Hand-wringing…

Tinseltown they called it
The Hollywood sign above it
On mountain and canyons covered
With scrub like gasoline tinder
Rich palaces of dreams rendered
To which many young locusts aspired
But Santa Anna winds have burned
Those houses to naught but ash
Chimneys only gravestones to the cash
Will Angelinos now have learned
Money, for Nature is no match
Challenge it and there’s a catch
Will L.A. be a lesson to us all
That Damocles’ sword’s about to fall…

II – Thunderbolt slinging…

“Come friendly bombs and rain on Slough”
Quipped English Poet Laureate
Enough with all this rational debate
No one heeds “We the People” now
Let Mar-a-Lago flooded be
With Trump inside preferably
Let insurance baulk at rebuilding
The Palace-ades of rich and famous
And let’s see what Trump really does
When Global Warming’s truly a thing
So unlike wise old King Canute
The science is no longer moot
And yes, for sure we all will suffer
Till Nature trumps the monstrous duffer…

This poem appeared in Record of Dissent: Poems of Protest in an Authoritarian Age — Summer 2025, published by The Chaos Section Poetry Project. We’ll be featuring each poem from the collection individually in the weeks ahead. You can read the full collection or download a free PDF of the chapbook here.

Andrew Frewin Wilson still works part-time as a factory manager in Bradford, West Yorkshire, and when not working, writes for pleasure. He has been a signwriter, painter, architectural draughtsman, as well as a restaurateur and held other food management roles. Working in many roles is a source of inspiration, and as an early adopter of reinvention every few years, his philosophy is: use it or lose it. Andrew is indebted to his AWA Writing Group and its facilitator, Deborah Bayer, for their nurturing and encouragement. how-would-you-know.com