by Paul Lander

Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish.
Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish.
Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish.

by Julia Griffin

For Mary

“Everyone in Japan will be called Sato by 2531 unless marriage law changed, says professor”
—The Guardian

Japan in the year 2531:
We’d require a squadron of seers
To fill us in on what will have been done
In five hundred and seven-odd years;

Hokkaido’s snows may have long since fried,
What with whole new kinds of polluter,
And all the rich may be living inside
An animate supercomputer;

And the only faith may be servitude,
And the sky may be hued like a peony,
And all may die that need air and food,
Since it’s likely there will not be any …

Or maybe, instead, we’ll have managed to solve
The problems that now so bemire us,
And we’ll find the perfect way to evolve,
Which won’t be found by a virus,

And the world (including Japan) won’t be
So heated and angry and trashy,
Even if this does cost, as a fee,
Every Ito and every Hayashi,

And our successors, grown kind and wise,
Will simply say Arigato!
For that brave new world, where nobody dies,
And everyone’s name is Sato.

by Simon MacCulloch

“Babies recognise spoken nursery rhymes they heard in the uterus”
—NewScientist

The murmuration that you hear
Is nothing that you need to fear,
Just millions of prospective mummies
Reciting Shakespeare to their tummies.

by Dan Campion

“Major US bridges could be vulnerable to ship collisions, including one just downstream from Key Bridge”
—CNN

What bridge is ever safe from harm?
The stout pons asinorum,
Which stalwart stands as sovereign charm
Lest dunces throng the forum.

by Simon MacCulloch

“[London’s Garrick Club] edges closer to admitting female members after 193 years of exclusion.
… The club’s committee passed a motion to accept new legal advice clarifying that the pronoun ‘he’
should be seen as interchangeable with ‘she’ in law, so the club’s rules already permit women to join”
—The Guardian

So nice that a leading KC
Has said that a “he” can mean “she.”
But don’t hold your breath
For the next member’s death—
It still doesn’t mean “you” or “me.”

by Steven Kent

“Bentley CEO says sales are down because the rich are experiencing ’emotional sensitivity’
due to the cost of living and don’t want to flaunt their wealth with a new luxury car”
—Fortune

We must eschew a Bentley, Jeeves,
But not for lack of gumption:
My sensitivity perceives
Conspicuous consumption
Offends the lower classes now,
And though they’re lazy shirkers,
Forbearance we must here allow
For fear of losing workers.
Such luxury’s too dear these days
On streets like old Manhasset’s;
Thank God we have so many ways
To hide our larger assets.

by Ruth S. Baker

“Hedgehog-saving teen recognised by Prime Minister”
—BBC News

“Baby Hedgehog Rescued by ‘Well-Meaning’ Woman Turns Out to Be a Pom-Pom”
—People

News items on these creatures (rightly prized)
This week were something of a varied lot:
A hedgehog-saving teen was recognized;
A hedgehog-pom-pom, au contraire, was not.

by Stephen Gold

“Trump is selling ‘God Bless the USA’ Bibles for $59.99 as he faces mounting legal bills”
—AP

The Genesis of Donald’s woes
Are Numbers quite untrue,
And lo, behold more tacky Acts
To pay the bills now due.

Good Judges hope his Exodus
Will not be long delayed,
And that the “truth” he peddles
Will repel us, not persuade.

Our politicians nowadays
Are little more than slumming.
O Lord, we pray,
Show us the way
To stop this Second Coming.

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“South Africa’s parliament in scandal as prosecutors say speaker took a wig as a bribe”
—Independent

Always insist that bribes are paid in money,
And not in wigs or anything like that,
’Cos hairdos more elaborate than normal
Are difficult to keep beneath your hat.

by Julia Griffin

“Controversial Titanic floating door prop sells for $718,750
The much-debated door from the 1997 film, which only had room to save Kate Winslet’s Rose
but not Leonardo DiCaprio’s Jack, has sold at auction”
—The Guardian

What was it worth, that much-debated door
Which saved Kate’s Rose, not Leonardo’s Jack?
We know how much the owners sold it for;
Most of a million dollars in the black,
They must feel grateful for its buoyant power:
A gallant plank, compelled to be a boat
For one fair heiress in her darkest hour,
Now helps keep Planet Hollywood afloat.
Ah, what a turn about! This wood again
Is costly, only for the rich. Now dry
And safe, it can forget the sad refrain
Of “Jack!” that made a generation cry.
But though the door’s moved on, that bluish glow
Survives where Rose will never let him go.

by Alex Steelsmith

“[A] Women’s Soccer League game with a crowd of nearly 33,000 suffered a delayed kickoff… 
because the teams had matching socks.”
—AP 

Soccery, sockery,
fans in the stadium
wanted a contest, but
there was a catch;

though the two rivals were
hypercompetitive,
no one expected so
perfect a match.

by Dan Campion

“Polar ice is melting and changing Earth’s rotation. It’s messing with time itself”
—CNN

One cannot mess with “time itself.”
Time never is alone,
But woven into space. A shelf
Of tomes have made this known.

Some books, though, say there’s only space
And matter; time’s a quirk
That tasks most of the human race
To punch a clock at work.

However nature’s mills may grind,
By warming up the globe,
It’s we who’ve made the world unwind.
What book is next up? Job.

by Marshall Begel

“Some students feel unfairly restricted by [app allowing] two seven-minute
bathroom breaks per day.”
—GovTech

I’m somewhat confused, hearing kids feel abused
By limits on bathroom reprieve.
Because, as I’ve reckoned, if timed to the second,
There’s adequate time to relieve.

The walk to the loo, just a hallway or two,
Would take, at the outside, 1 minute.
No need to explore, simply push through the door.
At 70 seconds, you’re in it!

Selecting a stall expends no time at all—
Just glance underneath for some feet.
And turning the lock doesn’t eat up the clock—
At 2 minutes in, take a seat!

Attend to your biz, for whatever it is,
For most teens 3 minutes is plenty.
Assuming no issue involving the tissue,
You’re now clocking 5 minutes, twenty.

Good hygiene demands that you soap up your hands,
And scrub them for one “Birthday” song.
Then flick yourself dry, pass those towels on by.
Your break was just 6 minutes long.

I’ll say to the youth who can’t handle this truth,
Expecting to protest and riot—
If you’re always late, don’t complain or debate,
Just switch to a fiber-rich diet.

by Alex Steelsmith

“Residents of an English village said the starling murmurations that have been dazzling onlookers…
also cover their homes, vehicles, sidewalks, roads and lawns with their droppings. … [T]he birds have
even been known to drop their smelly bombs on the heads of people who stop to watch them…”
—UPI

Starlings that can dazzle with astounding murmurations
also cover villages with countless defecations.
People with binoculars who only want to bird-watch
grumble discontentedly when forced instead to turd-watch.
Even ornithologists and noted bird-affirmers
speak of murmurations with exasperated murmurs.

by Marshall Begel

“Cicadas’ unique urination unlocks new understanding of fluid dynamics”
—Georgia Tech

Teamingly, streamingly
Sap-fed cicadas will
Spritz out their excess which
Takes some explaining.

Though few can fathom it
Hydrodynamically,
Don’t let those sapsuckers
Tell you it’s raining.