by Brandon Hyer
“Nirvana’s famous naked baby SUES band for child pornography:
Man – now aged 30 – who appeared on iconic cover of 1991 Nevermind album
claims $2.5m damages.”
—Daily Mail
He was wet, he was young, it was sunny.
Decades older, he thinks it’s not funny
That his schnitzel was shown
To buy grunge a new throne
So he’s still swimming after the money.
by Steven Kent
“Roger Federer’s Biggest Legacy? It Might Be His Billion-dollar Brand”
—The New York Times
Oh sure, I love the game, but understand
It’s how I got myself to this tax bracket.
My life’s gone even better than I planned—
I’ve really got a handle on this racket.
by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons
Low tide drew pilgrims to the hallowed isle
An abbot, Aidan, founded long ago,
Recruiting souls with missionary guile,
Redeeming those once bound for down below …
Years later, Lindisfarne’s a tourist trap.
Last week it met Walt Disney in disguise,
A garish green and yellow landtrain chap
Named Larry, whose new shuttle enterprise
Dishonoured Lindisfarne—a place of peace,
Tranquillity and awe, not Disney fun,
Riled locals screeched! Their squeaky wheels got grease,
And Larry’s froze, his trial run undone …
It seems that locals still share Aidan’s goal:
No landtrain’s welcome if it has no soul!
by Julia Griffin
It’s time, dear kin, to prove how much
You relatively merit,
For such as August shows me, such
Will be what you inherit.
September’s waiting at the door:
I hear its heavy breathing;
So, if you’d rather not be poor,
Make nice while I’m bequeathing.
Although my main concern’s my soul,
(Assume that a priori),
A will, I find, does cheer the whole
Memento mori story.
by Barbara Loots
Don’t you do my body harm
jabbin’ poison in my arm!
My insides are safe and clean.
Got hydroxychloroquine!
If it’s Covid I’m suspectin’
I can count on ivermectin.
That’ll fix me up, and how!
Stuff deworms a horse or cow.
Fever? Lost my sense of smell?
Trust the Lord’ll make me well.
Nothin’ else that I can do??
Save me in the ICU!!
by Coleman Glenn
“‘There’s a trend in New York right now where people are wearing merch: carrying totes
from local delis, hardware stores or their favorite steakhouse…’ It turns out the wholehearted
embrace of cotton totes may actually have created a new problem. An organic cotton tote needs to be
used 20,000 times to offset its overall impact of production.”
—The New York Times
In Brooklyn Heights the height of haute
couture includes a cotton tote
with logos from a local shop—
but soon, some say, this fad must stop.
The carbon cost of growing cotton
offsets what gains the world has gotten
from cutting back on cheapo plastic.
Today the true iconoclastic
shopper won’t use bags at all
but just bare arms—although, recall
those local shops whose names adorned
the bags. Must these boutiques be scorned?
No! They’ll be thrilled to offer you
a free, on-brand, bespoke tattoo.
by Alex Steelsmith
“The beach-side landmark, Lucy the Elephant, is having all of its metal skin replaced…”
—Associated Press
Pachyderm epiderm,
Lucy the Elephant
needs a new hide that is
top of the line.
Not a big story, but
dermatological
experts consider it
elephantine.
by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons
“Paris’ Arc De Triomphe Wrapped In Silver Blue And Red: Christo’s Posthumous Ephemeral Masterpiece”
—Forbes
Pourquoi? … We avifauna who reside
On L’Arc de Triomphe ask why sleep at home
Should be disturbed by scaffolding, applied
To wrap our city home in polychrome!
Have we not heard it from a little bird
Up here, last year, that Christo passed away?
Must we, despite that, still endure this herd
Of loud disruptive engineers, all day,
Unfurling fabric over our high-rise,
Surrounding it with silvers, reds and blues? …
We birds can drop some hints to teach these guys
Respect—for our abode, and right to snooze! …
And that’s why, once the wrapping crew are through,
Parisian birds rewrap the wrap—in poo!
by Dan Campion
“I don’t know what showbiz is and I’ve never watched MTV.”
—Charlie Watts
He’s drumming now with Elvin Jones,
Max Roach, Art Blakey, Buddy Rich,
In jazz’s blue celestial zones,
And after that unruly hitch
With rock and roll, his grin serene
Syncs with this cool, long-playing scene.
by Shaun Jex
“One last zinger: Dorothy Parker’s headstone unveiled in NYC”
—Associated Press
Youth and beauty had their day
Now time has swept them both away
And in their place left naught but dust
(though dust that’s very pretty)
But, dear reader, do not wail
Though life is brief and all too frail
From death she stole the final word
With an epitaph quite witty
by Julia Griffin
“‘This is manifestly not Saigon’: Blinken defends US mission in Afghanistan …
‘We went into Afghanistan 20 years ago with one mission in mind,
and that was to deal with the people who attacked us on 9/11,
and that mission has been successful.'”
—The Guardian
“It’s manifestly not Saigon,”
Said Blinken, with his blinkers on;
“While that was something of a mess,
This mission’s been a clear success.
A remnant desperate to scram
Evokes no scenes from Vietnam;
They’re newer, if you still need proof,
The helicopters on the roof.”
by Shaun Jex
“Maki Kaji, the creator of the popular numbers puzzle Sudoku whose life’s work
was spreading the joy of puzzles, has died…”
—Associated Press
Maki Kaji
Kept our minds from growing stodgy
So let’s give thanks for the bloke who
Gave the world Sudoku
by Ruth S. Baker
“A California man has filed a lawsuit after he was injured trying to flee from a bear
that surprised him in a Lake Tahoe dumpster.”
—The Guardian
Dear Sir, you’re warned (to give the gist)
To cease and also to desist
And hasten to be reconciled.
In re this suit, so rashly filed,
We are reliably advised
Our client was the one surprised
By you when merely looking in
Chez Dumpster for an opened tin.
To claim for injuries incurred
By foolish flight is quite absurd:
We may not, should you stay defiant,
Be able to restrain our client
From wielding, in this rightful cause,
The Bears’ Retaliative Clause.
by Chris O’Carroll
According to The New York Times, a gluteal enhancement
operation, popularly a BBL or Brazilian Butt Lift, has
“the highest mortality rate of any cosmetic surgery.”
Injecting fat to shape and fill your ass
Can cost you $15K and kill your ass.
by Steven Kent
It’s heresy, I say,
Traditions die this way—
We have to take a stand today, my brothers!
No lager, stout, or ale
On tap or by the pail,
vermouth, or gin and tonic, or the others,
Just lemonade and tea
And coffee (whiskey-free)—
We might as well go home, lads, to our mothers!