I put my first guess in—no squares go green;
just two go yellow; all the rest are gray.
It’s not the best, and not the worst I’ve seen.
I put my next guess in—one square goes green.
Words scroll my brain like credits on a screen.
I think of all I’ve got to do today.
I put my next guess in—now two squares green,
another yellow, and the last two, gray.
A stack of bills to pay and rooms to clean.
I put my fourth guess in—still two squares green.
Of this, at least (I think) I could be queen—
and rule the Facebook share that brings cachet.
I put my fifth guess in—all squares go green!
Farewell ye yellows!…now to face the gray.
A grandma, Jean, was right to be a mite Suspicious when her grandson called from jail, Explaining he had driven drunk. His plight Now needed her to find eight grand for bail … It’s just too bad her grandsons are so young, One knows they’re still in driving quite unversed— Rogue scammers who want grandmas to get stung Should do their homework on their victims first! … Ms. Jean informed the crook she wasn’t short Of cash, to lure him, but supplied in lieu Mere paper towels, and two police, to thwart Escape … The moral’s clear: Don’t misconstrue Near-sounding words, or they may foil your plot— Though Jean is senior, senile she is not!
“Irishman Faces 20 Years In Jail After Exposing Himself On Flight To New York” —The Guardian
Your honor, I respect your point condemning my shenanigans,
But have a heart, your lordship, set me free!
I really thought It’s just another Friday night at Flanagan’s
(I had a few before the flight, you see).
I didn’t plan to hit that man or moon the angry stewardess;
The Dewar’s made me do it, don’t you know.
So be a bloke—I swear that in the future I’ll fly fluid-less.
Hey judge, how ‘bout a drink before I go?
“Today, virtual real estate sells for hundreds of thousands of dollars of cold, hard cash (though converted into cryptocurrency). … But, before you can buy, you have to connect your wallet to the platform.” —”How to Buy Virtual Land in the Metaverse,” MUO
“Woman rescues animal and no one can work out what it is” —The Independent
Are you a dog, a wolf, a fox?
What is your taxonomic box?
The virtuosos went all out
To classify those ears, that snout,
But this was all its features told: I am alone, afraid, a-cold.
UPDATE (from early Saturday): I am alive! awake! away … !
“Give Green Her Boots Back… These overtures at progressivism
often comically fold back into the retrograde ideas they claim to eschew.… [I] would rather them keep their pseudo-progressive piffle to themselves…’” —Opinion in The Washington Post, on planned changes to M&Ms
I want to shout that I’m not one of these
maniacal too-anxious shoppers, here
for bread and milk and eggs—necessities
they crave whenever a nor’easter’s near.
They seem to think the storm will last forever,
or else the thought of one day with no bread
alarms them, and not one of them is clever
enough to plan more than one day ahead.
I hold my tongue, though; after all, I’m in
the store with them, crowding the narrow aisles,
subjected to the jostling and the din,
soon on a checkout line that goes for miles.
And I myself don’t look so very smart:
fudge brownie mix and cookies fill my cart.
“The CDC Is Investigating a Salmonella Outbreak Linked to Pet Bearded Dragons … To stay safe, don’t ‘kiss or snuggle’ your reptilian friends, the CDC says. If you have a bearded dragon… don’t eat around it, don’t let it in the kitchen, and always wash your hands with soap and water after touching it.” —MSN
Buck the Bearded Dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the kitchen just to spite the CDC.
Little Jackie kissed him (he loved his Buck a lot),
Then made himself a sandwich, and spent six days on the pot.
Oh, Jackie gave his dragon to a reptile stan,
Deciding that he’d come of age: This boy was now a man!
When his fever ended and all the cramps were gone
He went and kissed a real live girl, and—bingo!—Omicron.
