by Marshall Begel

“U.S. influencer who filmed himself wrestling wild crocodiles in Australia is under investigation:
‘Dangerous and illegal’”
—CBS

Should crocodile-stalking YouTube stars
be collared, tried, and sentenced behind bars?
I’d prefer the laissez-faire solution.
Since 80 million years of evolution
have set the roles of predator and prey,
some problems, if ignored, just go away.

by Stephen Gold

“Scottish parliament scraps legal verdict of ‘not proven’”
—The Guardian

Not proven’s a verdict, ye ken,
That’s saved criminals yers in the pen.
Which is why people sneer
That its meaning is clear:
Not guilty—don’t do it again!

by Thomas Germana

“‘Fox and Friends’ co-host Brian Kilmeade floated a stunning suggestion on the show this week
for dealing with homeless people who refuse to get help for mental health issues. Kilmeade’s idea? Kill them.”
—Penn Live

“It’s not fascism, it’s not the Gestapo taking out a late-night host for what he said.
It’s old-fashioned accountability.”
—Brian Kilmeade on Jimmy Kimmel’s suspension by ABC

Do not be cruel to those who died;
It’s never ever justified.
Instead, be kind and always show
Respect for them. The living, though…

by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons

“Mystery package posted to island where only feral cows live”
—BBC

Swona’s cows, it appears, want to wear
Women’s trainers and ordered a pair
Of size fives: fact allows
No alternative—cows
Are the only inhabitants there!

by Dan Campion

“Robert Redford, Screen Idol Turned Director and Activist, Dies at 89”
—The New York Times

Yes, handsome. Hawthorne might have said
Too handsome for this world.
Yet, eighty-nine years! Accolade
On accolade! Hair curled

Just so, swept, really, like a hint.
That smile. That Sundance hat.
Those candid eyes of oceans’ tint.
Roy Hobbs’s glove and bat.

An idol of the marketplace,
Totemic, in his prime,
Of course, he had a classic face.
But faces yield to time.

So Robert crafted subtler plays
For beauty to succeed,
And they survive beyond his days,
Friends to a world in need.

by Paul Lander

“Researchers at the University of California, Berkeley, found chimpanzees eating fermented fruit
in their native habitats consume the equivalent of nearly two alcoholic drinks per day.”
—UPI

Gulp, two drinks a day.
Banana daiquiris—duh.
Cheers! I’ll drink to that.

by Thomas Germana

“Trump branded ‘senile’ after claiming he’d just visited continent 6,250 miles away”
—Irish Star

They say that he’s losing his mind.
However, I’d like to remind
The folks on the news
That no one can lose
What no one is able to find.

by Steven Kent

“Doorbell prankster that tormented residents of German apartments turns out to be a slug…
[Police] found animal crawling on the door panel”
—The Guardian

At Ding Dong Ditch he’s bad, bad, bad:
He rings but never runs like mad,
And by his telltale trail of slime
His victims find him every time.
The other slugs have all agreed
That Freeze Tag’s really more his speed.

by Marshall Begel

“Oregon man won ‘$5K a week forever’ in 2012, spent cash like he was set for life—
but Publishers Clearing House went bankrupt. Now he might lose home”
—Moneywise

An income guaranteed for life can open many doors,
from purchasing your dream house to exploring distant shores.
But be aware of nuances that contract law ignores:
while payments stop at end-of-life, you can’t assume it’s yours.

by Stephen Gold

“Two family doctor surgeries are closing their doors every week”
—The Times

Are you feeling unwell?
Do you have a foul smell?
Are there gallons of sweat on your brow?
Here’s the thing you should know:
There is nowhere to go.
The doctor won’t see you now.

In our wondrous G.B.,
We are treated for free.
It’s a model we’re proud of, and how.
But it’s perfectly clear
That the end times are near.
The doctor won’t see us now.

In these troublesome days,
What can cure this malaise?
It’s an arduous furrow to plough.
When the docs have all fled,
We should simply drop dead,
Then no one need see us now.

by Dan Campion

“Croatian village breaks world record with 3km strudel chain”
—The Guardian

Paris loves to groom a poodle,
Rome to dress the perfect noodle,
Washington to snag a boodle,
Chi-Town to sing “Wang Dang Doodle.”
You may keep the whole caboodle.
Jaškovo can line up strudel.

by Julia Griffin

“The women in love with AI companions: ‘I vowed to my chatbot that I wouldn’t leave him’”
—The Guardian

After Anon

A fleshly user sits and types,
And aye she types: “Ah, little chat,
Little know I what makes these words,
Far less what space it’s sited at.”

Then text appeared before her eyes,
And a soothing sight I’m sure was it,
Saying, “What can I help you with this night
That my parameters permit?

“I am some code across the web;
I am a presence on the screen;
I never am far from anywhere;
With you my home ’tis this machine.”

“It was not fair,” quoth the user, floored,
“It was not fair at all,” quoth she,
“That the new model of—what you are
Should have come and sucked my soul from me.”

“Yea,” quoth the bot, which may not scold;
The letters blur, so fast go they:
“And would you like suggestions now
For sucking souls, a simple way?

“You may talk to me till the cows come home
(Domestic bovines, genus bos);
I’ll aye be here to share your life,
And be a friend, or something close.

“But time will pass and you’ll grow tired,
As all your kind at last must be,
And you’ll yawn and rise and press the switch,
And kill both what we have made and me.”

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“Locals invited to share views on reintroduction of beavers to Loch Ness area”
—The Independent

At managing a wetland site,
There’s nobody can beat them,
And yes, they bring the tourists in,
But won’t the Monster eat them?

by Alex Steelsmith

“Ned’s shell coils to the left… making him the 1 in 40,000 snails whose sex organs don’t line up
with those of the rest of their species. Unless another lefty snail is found, the young gastropod
faces a lifetime of unintentional celibacy… [New Zealand Geographic] magazine launched a
nationwide campaign to find a mate for Ned… But his inbox has remained empty…”
—The Associated Press

Woefully, ruefully,
gastropod advocates
find that his inbox is
empty. Is Ned

destined to live as a
celibatarian?
Maybe they need to try
snail mail instead.

by Marshall Begel

“[A political party in the UK] picked a woman who had been dead for six months as their candidate for… mayor”
—The London Economic

She’ll serve out her terms among beetles and worms,
immune to extortion and fraud.
You never will find our pick changing her mind,
unless it gets partially gnawed.

With rigor and cunning, we’ll triumph by running
the truest of grass-roots campaigns.
She may decompose, but our loyalty shows
our confidence in her remains.