by Nora Jay

“Max von Sydow, star of The Seventh Seal …, dies aged 90 …
He also brought immense presence and gravity to roles such as Jesus Christ
in The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965), a doomed priest in William Friedkin’s
The Exorcist, and an intellectually snobbish artist in Woody Allen’s
Hannah and Her Sisters (1986).”
—The Guardian

Let us this week remember Max von Sydow,
Who brought the gravity that fits a credo
To roles like Jesus Christ, an Exorcister,
And Hannah’s in-law-loving Sister’s Mister.
His game of chess with Death was gravely splendid.
This has identically now re-ended.

by Julia Griffin

“A diamond tiara that once belonged to one of Britain’s most extravagant aristocrats
is up for sale on Saturday at a prestigious European art fair.
The Anglesey Tiara was at one time owned by Henry Cyril Paget—fifth Marquess of Anglesey.…
The fourth marquess left the 20-something Paget an estate worth £535,000—
equivalent to about £60m today. …
[He] became known as ‘The Dancing Marquess’ by the newspaper gossip sheets. …
[I]n the space of just over five years, [he] had blown the lot, been declared bankrupt,
and died from complications of tuberculosis in Monte Carlo.
He told a French journalist: ‘In six years, I have run through that fortune, just how—I could not tell you.’ …
He was just 29.”
—BBC News

He had a fleet of poodles;
His motors ran on scent;
Of jewels, he had oodles,
Draped over him like noodles.
Who knew how much he spent?

Not he. His self-aimed bounty
Might daily have financed
The budget of a county;
He let it mount and mount. He
Dropped diamonds as he danced.

Man spends, the bank disposes;
He crashed at twenty-nine,
And died (tuberculosis).
His kin came in with hoses,
Purell, and turpentine,

And set to work. Embittered?
They must have felt bereft;
They’d lost the wealth he’d frittered
On all that barked and glittered.
So no real trace is left;

But you who sense romance in
The shades of Anglesey
Might glimpse, if you should glance in,
The twinkle of a dance in
A marquessal marquee.

by Ruth S. Baker

“Tito’s warns customers: Vodka is not a safe hand sanitizer”
—UPI

Our customers inquire: for sanitizing,
Is Vodka safe? Our word to them is Nope.
Coincidentally, we’re not advising
Concocting Bloody Marys out of soap.

by Bruce Bennett

“… Even bathroom odors and FLATULENCE
are a means of transmission.”**
—an email ad by Dr. Gil Mobley, “physician
and microbiologist”

You thought it was bad, but it’s worse than you thought.
It turns out that COVID- 19 can be caught
if you’re too close to someone and just get a whiff.
So, be on your guard, and FOR GOD’S SAKE, DON’T SNIFF!

Stay out of all bathrooms. Avoid every crowd.
There’s always the chance that the sound won’t be loud.
The virus will get you, and then you will croak,
and Silent But Deadly will not be a joke!

**Editors’ note: We’ve found no scientific literature that supports this claim.

by Susan McLean

at the American Academy in Rome

I’d booked my flight to Italy;
the world was mine to roam.
But now I rue it bitterly
while Romans all stay home.

I thought I’d tour the sights a bit:
all Rome would be my oyster.
But then coronavirus hit,
and now the world’s my cloister.

My nagging sense of menace has
a rapid downward spiral,
replaying Death in Venice as
my holiday goes viral.

by Alex Steelsmith

Piggledy giggledy,
Bloomberg the Billionaire
stood on his toes (not a
box) to report

all of his efforts to
undemocratically
buy the election were
coming up short.

by Donald Wheelock

A cantankerous, Federalist star
thought the president some kind of czar,
thus empowering Trump
who’s again on the stump:
It’s time to disbar William Barr.

by Julia Griffin

“Happy Women’s History Month!”
—Email received from Liveyourdream.org

This is a month for feeling blithe and sistery—
A little envious, perhaps, but joyful too:
This month we honor Happy Women’s History;
At last those Happy Women get their due

Now’s not the time for Sylvia or Assia,
Virginia, or Marie Antoinette;
The mood this March is cheerier and sassier,
But also calmer. Not the suffragette,

Like Mrs. Pankhurst, chained against a railing,
Or Joan of Arc, or Mary Queen of Scots;
Let’s praise those gals whose lives were plainer sailing,
On crystal seas, in well-appointed yachts.

Glad Women, thanks! Imagining the fun of you
Brightens my days with something like good cheer;
And if I knew the name of even one of you,
Or anything you did, I’d blaze it here.

by Dan Campion

“Please Put Calamity on Hold. Style Is on the Line.”
—New York Times National Print Edition

Please put calamity on hold,
For Style is on the line.
It’s Paris Fashion Week. Be bold!
Come worship high design:

Bouclés and taffetas, tall boots,
Hot pants and bandeau tops—
What makes a world? Hot photo shoots.
A skinny glass of schnapps.

Don’t phone it in, then. Make the scene;
The cure for every blight,
With cavalcades of sylphs serene,
Couture will set you right.

by Erika Fine

Hiding in the undecided mind,
Biden staged a comeback from behind.
Bernie’s engine lost a little steam.
Warren’s chances faded to a dream.
Pete and Amy stopped their silly spat,
Bowing out and helping Joe combat
The surging leftist faction they all fear
Will catalyze a win for Trump this year.
Bloomberg’s words were graceful in goodbye—
Five hundred million’s not, for him, so high.
His hefty wallet now will go to Biden
In hopes that Joe’s new dominance will widen.
They all agree on one objective, though:
To save our nation, Donald Trump must go!

by Julia Griffin

“A man brought a llama in a tuxedo to his sister’s wedding,
and the photo of her unamused expression is going viral.”
—Insider

A man conveyed me to his sister’s wedding
In a tuxedo, much to my surprise.
I felt so awkward I could not stop shedding:
It wasn’t just the error in the size.

The photo of my unamused expression
Is going viral. Why should that perplex?
Before you have a costumed photo session
With llamas, kindly ask about our sex.

my home town

by Pat D’Amico

“Kirkland, Wash., becomes epicenter of coronavirus response as cases spread”
—The Washington Post

We’re advised, if we’re sixty plus,
(My friends all agree that means us)
To stay in our homes, hunkered down—
No shopping or nights on the town.
But for travelers, space is a breeze:
Just say, “I’m from Kirkland” and sneeze.

by Julia Griffin

“Possible new ‘minimoon’ discovered orbiting Earth
It’s been with us for three years, astronomers say. Sadly, it’ll probably be gone by spring. …
Meet 2020 CD3, Earth’s newest possible ‘minimoon.'”
—Space.com

This possible new minimoon
Is due to vanish with the spring.
It’s just a little skinimoon
But whirling like a spinimoon
(No hint of ignominimoon),
Exuberantly orbiting.

Has it a name? No commoners
Were party to this travesty,
But thanks to some astronomers
(Judiciously anonomers)
This minimoonimoniker’s
Just 2020 CD3.

by Dan Campion

“This will end.”
—The President of the United States, at a press conference on the coronavirus

All maladies do come to closure.
Why, then, fret about exposure?
One day, each raging fever’s spent.
Let’s look beyond this president.

by Nora Jay

“Republicans furious over history lesson comparing Trump to Nazis“
—The Guardian

“Outcry after MSNBC host compares Sanders’ Nevada win to Nazi invasion“
—The Guardian

This week we have ear-marked the Wehrmacht,
The versatile Waffen SS,
The Reich and the Führer.
What trick could be surer
For lighting a fire in the Press?

We quickly saw Donald McConnelled
(That’s “fought for with pop-eyed hauteur”):
It’s Liberal slurring
To talk about Göring!—
The GOP shrinks from a slur;

But as for old Bernie, his journey
Has garnered some Foxian cred:
To have a belittler
Compare him with Hitler
Is better than Wrong-Sort-Of-Red.