by Paul Willis

“Zoom says remote working is here to stay.”
—Today News Post

My audio is cutting out,
the chat has thrown a fit.
The ring light has begun to blink:
my face is barely lit.

My breakout room has broken down,
my screen share is a miser.
The URL has gotten lost,
and I am none the wiser.

The gallery has now become
the mug shots of ex-cons—
or yearbook portraits come alive
to haunt our dusks and dawns.

We Zoom Zoom Zoom both day and night
the length of this pandemic,
and now we’re Zoom Zoom zombies,
for the curse has gone systemic.

I do not wish to see you hid
among those little squares;
I wish that little virus would
just take us unawares.

In heaven, at least, we’ll recognize
each other face to face;
and that is some improvement on
this Zoomish, hellish place.

I know a bright, young man who made
his millions on Zoom stock;
I think that he should promptly be
put under key and lock.

I think he should be made to stare
upon the screen all day,
and when he dies, stark raving mad,
to send his bucks my way.

I’d buy a lush, green island—say,
the Isle of Innisfree—
and there among the clean bean rows
I’ll let you live with me.

We will have no computers there,
our phones will just be dumb.
The only things that fizz and Zoom
will be our Cokes and rum.

Oh, won’t it be tremendous there!
Oh, won’t it just be grand!
We’ll banish all technology
and live upon the land.

But when I have to take a job
that’s all too far away,
I’ll Zoom with you, and you with me
(lamentable apostasy!)—
for Zoom is here to stay.

by Gail White

I’m going out to dinner just the way I used to do,
With a prior reservation and a table set for two.
I’ll have the trout and truffles with a side of garden greens.
I’m going out to dinner, ‘cause I’ve had my two vaccines.

I do not have a temperature, I do not have a cough,
And being over seventy is finally paying off.
Goodbye, GrubHub and Waitr! I can chew my food with pride.
I’m going out to dinner.
You can’t stop me.
Stand aside!

by Claudia Gary

“…if you take your vaccination card to any Krispy Kreme location in the US, you can get a free glazed doughnut each day, the company said in a news release.”
—CNN

For those who cannot motivate
their friends to go and vaccinate,
it’s not too late.

While herd immunity may seem
elusive, it’s the sweetest dream
at Krispy Kreme.

Here, if your T-cells have been raised,
bring proof! Your pals will be amazed
when you get Glazed.

They may soon want to claim their share—
although some people, to be fair,
just doughnut care.

by Chris O’Carroll

“No reasonable person would conclude that the statements were truly statements of fact”
—Sidney Powell’s attorneys, arguing for dismissal of the defamation lawsuit that
Dominion Voting Systems filed in response to her false allegations of vote fraud

When I said that Trump won the election,
All the smart people knew I was lying,
So the trash talk that I’m getting sued for
Was a scam only dimwits were buying.

I was lying about Venezuela,
The rigged voting machines, and the “steal.”
Trump lied, and he knew I was lying.
Only fools thought our story was real.

Dominion complains I defamed them,
And that’s why they’re entitled to sue.
Truth is, none but low-IQ losers
Could have thought my false statements were true.

by Iris Herriot

“Archaeologists identify 3,200-year-old temple mural of spider god in Peru
Mural discovered last year is thought to depict a zoomorphic, knife-wielding spider god associated with rain and fertility”
—The Guardian

To what would I give a berth wider
Than a deified Andean spider?
A spider, of limitless life,
With a paleolithical knife.

by Bob McKenty

The mercenary wears the uniform
Of whosoever pays the highest wage,
Enrolled by states in which he wasn’t born
To fight against whomever they’d engage.
The enemies are mercenaries too,
Responding unto Filthy Lucre’s call.
Their wars are short. Fatalities are few.
So let’s renew hostilities: Play ball!

by Alex Steelsmith

Higgledy-giggledy,
National Button Week
might be occasion for
humorous quips,

though if you suffer from
koumpounophobia
you would be wiser to
button your lips.

by Dan Campion

Suez Canal Blocked After Container Ship Gets Stuck
—The New York Times

Containers for the things contained
Are jammed up. Hope none spill.
The Ever Given is maintained:
What can go sideways, will.

by Julia Griffin

“Ben Kirby’s PreachersNSneakers took off when he posted the enormous price tags of the fashion worn by prominent clergy”
—The Guardian

It was a wonder none could guess,
The footwear of the ministry
Exalted with expensiveness
And odorous with sanctity.

It’s surely worth a post, or tweet,
If not a tribute from the Muse:
How beautiful they are, the feet
Of preachers clad in Jimmy Choos!

by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons

“Irish punter wins a sensational €578k off a €20 bet at Cheltenham Festival”
—The Irish Post

Long odds of 1 to more than 20K
Unsealed an Irish wallet for a punt.
Clairvoyance made its twenty euros pay
King’s-ransom-size returns from National Hunt!
Outsiders ask: How were four horse names picked
Full three months in advance to win four-fold?
The odds were huge at least one horse got licked—
How could the punter know they’d all strike gold? …
Experienced horse whisperers’ loose lips
Inform me that when leprechauns get caught,
Release should be exchanged for racing tips—
It irks them when their precious gold is sought! …
So I believe a bargain wisely struck
Has brought this punter classic Irish luck!

by Nicole Caruso Garcia

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
Send Benadryl and Sudafed my way.

by Steve Bremner

(with apologies to Christina Rossetti)

My heart was like a singing bird
Whose nest was looking sort of shabby;
My heart was like an apple-tree
Whose fruit was growing kind of crabby;
My heart was like a dull crustacean
That drifts in dark but wineless sea;
My heart now pops a palpitation:
My fourteen hundred‘s come to me.

Fill me a purse with cash and cards
And aim me at those old oases
Of humble bare necessities:
Kohl’s, Neiman Marcus, Saks, and Macy’s.
I need you not, usurious lender,
I’m stimulated for a spree;
For the rebirth of this spender
Is come, my check is come to me.

by Chris O’Carroll

“It is our policy not to sell products with the ‘F’ word…”
—Michaels corporate HQ, quoted in The New York Times, explaining the craft store chain’s
decision to trash all its copies of the book Feminist Cross-Stitch

The patterns in this book play dirty tricks,
E.g., spell “Patriarchy Is for Dicks,”

“Feminist as Fuck,” and “Fuck Politeness,”
Wounding our manhood and our moral rightness,

Needling us with naughty-word cross-stitches.
Feminists can be such crafty bitches.

by Ruth S. Baker

“A Guardian Seascape analysis of 44 recent studies of more than 9,000 seafood samples from restaurants,
fishmongers and supermarkets in more than 30 countries …, expos[ed] seafood fraud on a vast global scale.”
—The Guardian

Round the world the rumour hums:
Something fishy this way comes!
Edible but deeply odd:
Plaice displaced, fake hake, cod cod.
Diners find them quite delicious,
All these meretricious fishes;
Still, the thought must make one quail:
Seafraud on a global scale.

by Alex Steelsmith

“Kirsten Gillibrand and the majority of House Democrats from New York… on Friday called on Gov. Andrew Cuomo to resign.”
—NBC News

“Cuomo’s scandals are related: Instead of protecting seniors and women, he promoted himself.”
—Newsweek

Biggledy-wiggledy
Kirsten E. Gillibrand
calls on the Governor:
“Fall on your sword.”

Cuomo, who swears he acts
un-narcissistically,
cries, “But they gave me an
M.E. award!”