Poems of the Week

From a Higher Level

by Philip Kitcher

“A lowly Scottish soccer club, which once had ‘James Bond’ actor Sean Connery on its books,
has been given a six-point deduction for having a sloping field.”
US News and World Report

To the Scottish Professional Football League

Dear Sirs,
The fans in Bonnyrigg
were feeling proud and thinking big,
till you unjustly stripped away
points fairly earned in honest play.
No football team should ever yield
its right to use a slanted field:
remember that both sides defend
for half the game at either end.
The time I spent at Gordonstoun
taught me to take the up-and-down;
we teenage boys soon learned to cope
with all varieties of slope.
We soldiered on, and took our lumps
on pitches that were full of bumps.
We played on when the goals would flood,
when footballs would be lost in mud,
we played through hail, we played through snow,
we played where milksops feared to go.
All brawny Scotsmen should oppose
this treatment of the Bonny Rose.
Your Bonny Prince, I must respond
to save the heritage of Bond.
Your mollycoddling’s absurd—
I countermand it!
Charles the Third

A Disconcerting Concert

by Alex Steelsmith

“Canadian rock band plays world’s deepest concert in a mine… 8,086 feet and 11.31 inches below sea level…”
UPI

Readily, steadily,
rock and roll melodies
rose from a seemingly
bottomless hole;

singers aware of their
vulnerabilities
prayed that a sizeable
rock wouldn’t roll.

Dreamingly, schemingly,
venturous band members
hoped their performance would
strengthen their brand,

only to find it worked
counterproductively;
pundits declared them an
underground band.

Justin’s Time

by Stephen Gold

“Justin Welby’s resignation as Archbishop of Canterbury was necessary to ‘change the face’
of how the Church of England tackles abuse, senior colleagues have said.”
The Times

Lord, you know I’m pledged to thee,
But why on earth did thou choose me
To be the shepherd of thy flock,
Then give them the almighty shock
Of finding one they thought divine
Was just a man without a spine?

That evil wins when men do naught
Is something I had long forgot,
As through the years your mills ground slow.
But now I’m dust and have to go.
It looks like justice, I suppose.
But will it change a thing? God knows.

All Wrapped Up

by Iris Herriot

“Human rights groups… [say] there has been a recent spate of arrests, forced disappearances
and the shuttering of businesses linked to perceived breaches of the hijab laws.”
The Guardian

Iran jails women who refuse hijabs.
Oh women of America, rejoice!
You only have a President who grabs,
And bodies which are Nick Fuentes’ choice.

Holy, Smoked

by Marshall Begel

“A fight is under way to allow Saint-Flour Cathedral… to continue having
premium hams dry as they hang from beams in its 135-metre-high tower”

—Church Times

Please, cultural affairs committee,
Bestow a modicum of pity
On our crucial, but petite
Commercial venture curing meat.

After all, it wasn’t smoked
Charcuterie that once provoked
Our Lord and Savior’s fit of rage
On that ecclesiastic stage!

So when discussing our appeal,
Perhaps you’ll gather for a meal.
Before you vote to shut us down,
Will that be Grey Poupon, or brown?

De gustibus

by Dan Campion

“R.F.K. Jr. Scorns Trump’s Fast Food Habit: ‘Really, Like, Bad’ and ‘Poison’”
The New York Times

What’s “poison” to a Kennedy
Tastes like ambrosia to the Boss.
Whose Camelot shall thrive? We’ll see.
One’s venom is another’s sauce.

The Forty-Year Mitch

by Nora Jay

“Mitch McConnell steps down…”
The Guardian

So Mitch steps down. Let’s give the man his due:
He never failed to recognize a cue.
Grey Eminences bow their heads, inspired;
Because of him, no judges will be hired
For decades with the faintest tinge of blue.

You think the party’s been made over new?
Mitch sowed the seeds and watched them as they grew.
No Garlands for the Court! He’s justly tired,
So Mitch steps down.

They’re all his progeny, the happy crew
Grabbing both houses and the White one too;
He must be proud to see what he has sired:
His vote saved Donald Trump from being fired!
There’s really nothing left for him to do,
So
Mitch
steps
down.

This Was Almost Too Easy

by Steven Kent

“Trump allies say Project 2025 is on as Heritage affiliates vie for cabinet posts”
The Guardian

“Now that the election is over I think we can finally say that yeah actually Project 2025 is the agenda. Lol.”
Matt Walsh, on X

Now say goodbye to rights and stuff you like—
Our candidate pulled off the perfect “Psych!
No question Trump’s about to do our bidding.
“What’s Project 25?” he said. “Just kidding!

Carry On Conning

by Julia Griffin

“Italian officials said they had dismantled a Europe-wide network of forgers and dealers selling works
purported to be by A-list artists, mostly through auction houses.” … The carabinieri named the case
“Operation Caryatid”
The New York Times

Don’t tumble for talented twisters!
This year, unashamed criminali
Have forged some artistic A-listers,
Including both Banksy and Dali.

Collectors were sadly unwary,
Till somebody slipped up or ratted,
And handed the Carabinieri
The triumph they call “Caryatid.”

Master of the Pentagon

by Chris O’Carroll

“I’m straight up just saying, we should not have women in combat roles. . .
[M]en in those positions are more capable.”
Pete Hegseth, prospective Secretary of Defense

I am the very model of a master of the Pentagon.
The war on wokeness is the vital mission I am bent upon.
You’ll see me put the kibosh on inclusion and diversity,
Insinuating they amount to sexual perversity.
In warriors that I command, there is no place for estrogen.
Give me a fighting force composed exclusively of manly men.
I was a TV talking head who earned a mega-MAGA name.
The skills I need to run a war machine are pretty much the same.
I fawn upon the tweeter other savvy pols have fawned upon.
I am the very model of a master of the Pentagon.

Scarlet Tanager

by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons

“Crowds flock to quiet street to spot rare bird”
BBC

Shelf, miles from North America, is where
Committed British twitchers flocked to catch
A sighting, as a songbird that is rare
Reviewed its options on its foreign patch:
Look here for mates—for other refugees
Escaping Trump’s US? Risk flying back,
To somewhere south of Florida’s high seas—
Though not to Haiti, where there’s too much flak?
Advance, to where a songbird wouldn’t freeze—
North Africa? Although warm winds invite
A scarlet tanager, would lack of trees
Give raptors easy pickings for a bite? …
Excited twitching never harmed a bird—
Remaining Shelf-bound, surely, is preferred!

An American Story

by Bruce Bennett

“A Rural Missouri Town Fights Big Tech, and Itself: Residents of Peculiar battled developers
and some of their local officials to keep a giant data center out of their community.”
The New York Times

Let’s hear it for Peculiar.
They stood up to Big Tech.
They would not just roll over.
Instead, they gave them heck!

Now they still have their village.
It gives a body joy
to know one has a lifestyle
that others can’t destroy.

They stood up to Goliath
until he stomped away.
Now they have what they fought for—
at least until that day

When someone schemes to profit
and starts to sow new doubt,
and they wake up some morning
to find they’ve been sold out.

What Are the Odds?

by Steven Kent

“Universe would die before monkey [or chimpanzee] with keyboard writes Shakespeare, study finds”
The Guardian

A million chimps can type until the world has ceased to be
And never pen a Hamlet, Caesar, Lear, or Richard Three.
Surprised? I must confess, my friends, I lost the urge to bet
On random writing monkeys once I saw the internet.

Alternate Timeline

by Matt Schatz

Tuesday’s optimistic posts
Are today’s sadistic ghosts