by Julia Griffin
“California man survives frigid five-hour night swim with a friendly seal as his guide”
—New York Post
Arion had his dolphin,
And Jonah had his whale
(Sufficient to play golf in):
When life blows up a gale,
And every organ shivers
Like splintering enamel,
Hope God, or god, delivers
A friendly ocean mammal.
by Scot Slaby
“With border curbs still in place and Hong Kong considering tough measures
to rein in the Covid surge, life looks better elsewhere.”
—Bloomburg
(with apologies to The Clash)
We Hong Kong expats want to know:
Should we stay or should we go?
Some say lockdown will be fine,
And add it won’t last for all time.
How are we supposed to know?
Should we stay or should we go?
It’s nonstop test, test, test
Since Omicron was not suppressed.
Hong Kong’s closed off, and now we’re stuck.
Few flights depart. We’re out of luck—
Can’t even get into Guangzhou.
Should we stay or should we go?
Should we stay or should we go now?
Should we stay or should we go now?
If we go, that could be wisdom
But if we stay, there’s always dim sum…
So someone tell us, if you know:
Should we stay or should we go?
by Lynn Gilbert
“VW confirms that some ID.4 electric SUVs were lost in infamous cargo ship fire”
—electrek
Your luxury car’s in the drink.
(Some batteries shorted, they think.)
You’ll never say “Howdy”
to your Bentley or Audi
and we’re fathoms deep in red ink.
by Stephen Gold
“Neil Diamond seals gem of a deal for song rights”
—The Times
(To the tune of “I’m a Believer“)
As a boy, great music was the holy grail.
Fortune didn’t matter much to me.
Now I’ve gotten older,
I need more than thanks.
All the best notes, baby, are in banks.
Have you seen this check?
I couldn’t believe it!
There’s not a speck
Of doubt in my mind.
Gotta say: Hey! I’m an achiever
(Got more than Bob I think you’ll find….).
by Julia Griffin
“Edgar Allan Poe’s pocket watch among donations to museum”
—The Guardian
Once within my mournful mansion, while I cursed my choice of scansion
With my face against my pillow and my clothes upon the floor—
While I burrowed, semi-sleeping, suddenly there came a beeping
As of someone smugly cheeping, cheeping like a total bore.
“’Tis some nightmare,” I protested, “’tis 6:30, I am sure!”
Quoth the timepiece: “8:04.”
Then this witchy watch compelling my sad fancy into yelling
By the self-important aspect it rebarbatively wore,
“Though your face be scratched and glassy, thou,” I said, “art bold and brassy;
Would thou wert in Tallahassee and myself in Elsinore!
Do not tell me what your name is, we have not the least rapport.”
Quoth the timepiece: “9:04.”
And that timepiece, eardrum-stinging, still is pinging, still is pinging
On the grimy undergarments that adorn my chamber floor;
And its tone has all the beauty of an owl’s that’s extra-hooty—
Nothing delicate or fluty—and my very brain is sore;
Though I know it’s still 6:30, in a voice I can’t ignore
Quoth the timepiece: “10:04 …”
by Dan Campion
“Tyrannosaurus rex may have been misunderstood”
—CNN
How could you grin that come-on, Rex,
Encouraging my hunch
We’d meet for dinner, drinks, and sex?
You’re having me for lunch.
by Chris O’Carroll
The Ukraine invasion is “genius,”
We hear Putin’s groupie exclaim.
Moreover, it wouldn’t have happened
On his watch, so Biden’s to blame.
by Alex Steelsmith
“Ukraine warns of cyberattacks on banks…”
—Reuters
“One result [of Russia’s attack] would be to push Russia to have closer economic ties to China… ‘Russia is likely to pivot all energy and commodity exports to China’…”
—The New York Times
Jiggery-pokery,
cybersecurity
vulnerabilities
threaten the banks;
geopolitically,
Machiavellian
actors are banking on
Vladimir’s tanks.
by Eddie Aderne
“Reef ball burials: the new trend for becoming ‘coral’ when you die…
Most of the world’s reefs are at risk—from ocean warming and acidification,
pollution and overfishing…”
—The Guardian
Full fathom five please let me lie:
Of my bones be corals built;
Then, I take it, when I die,
I’ll lose this never-ending guilt.
by Steven Kent
“Experience: A Meteorite Crashed On To My Bed”
—The Guardian
I’ve seen some shooting stars in bed—
Come on, you know the feeling!
But this one went straight to my head
(Or tried to) through the ceiling.
by Julia Griffin
“Woman found trapped upside down in chimney rescued in California”
—The Modesto Bee
A woman found trapped upside down
Inside a chimney tickles me
(She’s safe—I’m not that sort of clown),
But less than The Modesto Bee.
Was she embarrassed? Was she warm?
What was the truth behind the hype?
Observers gathered in a swarm
With exegetes of every stripe
Abuzz with questions—what of food?
And what of post-food? Luckily
They cannot voice concerns so crude
And write for The Modesto Bee.
by Kevin Ahern
Thanks to wardens’
Clever scheming
Hikers now
Enjoy free streaming
by Stephen Gold
“Canadian doctors prescribe national park tickets for health benefits”
—The Times
At 3 o’clock
I saw the Doc,
And told him, “I’m depressed.
I hate my life,
My job, my wife.
No wonder I’m so stressed.”
“I see,” said he.
“It seems to me
That pills won’t do the trick,
But tender care
From God’s fresh air
Will stop you feeling sick.
You can’t just mope.
I won’t soft-soap:
Get up from off your ass.
Go hike and bike—
What’s not to like?
Here, take this mountain pass.”
I bade goodbye.
With weary sigh,
I stepped across the street.
Inside I knew
What I must do,
And where to point my feet.
The great outdoors
Is just for bores.
A better cure by far,
As wise men note,
Runs down the throat.
Hi, from The Hikers’ Bar.
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Why are Scots having fewer children?”
—Scotland on Sunday
With ever-rising heating bills,
The reason isn’t hard to guess:
We’re having fewer kids because
It’s too damn cold to get undressed.
by Julia Griffin
for Lola Mills Lanou
“New Zealand plays Barry Manilow to repel parliament protesters”
—BBC News
His name was Barry, he was a showman:
He had yellow curly hair and his trousers were aflare;
He sang of Sandra, and also Mandy;
He wrote the songs that once we knew;
Now in 2022,
New Zealand blasts his tunes at anti-vax platoons:
If they counter, they just sound moany,
As he lilts and croons.
At the convoy (co) co-co-co-convoy,
A crowd much too loud for an envoy;
At the convoy (co), co-co-co-convoy,
Rather than Barry they’d take hari kari:
At the convoy they were aghast.
His name was Barry, he was a showman:
He had long been quite uncool but his agent was no fool,
No need for shame now, he’s proved his fame now,
And he’s riding very high
On the peaks of Spotify
While statesmen aim his tracks at grumpy maniacs;
He’s lost his youth but reclaimed his Tony,
And endorsed the vax.
For the convoy (co) co-co-co convoy,
A crowd much too loud for an envoy;
At the convoy (co), co-co-co-convoy,
Though they blockaded, it looks like he made it:
Could this be the magic at last?