“Tourist returns stolen artefacts from Pompeii ‘after suffering curse’ … The Canadian woman, identified only as Nicole, sent a package containing
two mosaic tiles, parts of an amphora and a piece of ceramics to a travel agent
in Pompeii, in southern Italy, alongside a letter of confession. … ‘Please, take them back, they bring bad luck,’ she wrote.” —The Guardian
The spirits of Pompeii are very loath to be disturbed.
A wish to rob their households is a wish that should be curbed;
Recall Nicole from Canada, who yielded to the aura
Of two mosaic tiles, a shard, and parts of an amphora.
She smuggled them from Naples with her other souvenirs,
And in her chilly northern home they waited many years.
Meanwhile, Nicole, though doubtless much revering them at first,
Was slowly made to feel herself inevitably cursed.
No need to list the nasty things the pilferer endured;
They soaked her like the waters of an overflowing fjord,
Till, medically sick of the avenging bric à brac,
She bowed her head in penitence and sent the whole lot back.
In picturesque Pompeii, upon the rich volcanic loam,
Two tiles and bits of pottery embrace their proper home.
The local gods are smiling, but, to coin an apothegm:
Unless your name’s Vesuvius, don’t mess about with them.
The English three-tier system starts off-key: High’s medium, and Medium is low, Enabling Very High to be Tier Three— Variety’s the spice of Covid woe! All Tier-Three pubs are closed throughout the day. Last orders in Tier One are called at ten, Ensuring tipsy throngs form right away Outside the pub to spread Corona then. For all three tiers, you still have Rule of Six, Though it means different things in different tiers: In Two, indoors, you’re not allowed to mix Except… oh, I forget, just drink your beers! Restock home cellars weekly. Don’t run dry— Some day this vale of tiers shall too pass by!
“Virus, stimulus angst hit world stocks as safe U.S. dollar shines” —Reuters
Angst has struck the lords of stock;
They’re buying greenbacks chockablock.
Our bridges rust, our health declines,
But thank God, our safe dollar shines.
“China insists Genghis Khan exhibit not use words ‘Genghis Khan’” —The Guardian
The exhibition stars a man much puffed in Kazakhstan:
The bloody-minded emperor we know as .
At birth he clutched a blood clot just as big as a pecan,
And later had six wives, this ever-grasping .
This fact did not restrain him when he saw a courtesan,
In fact 500 (thereabouts) this randy .
Although he persecuted those who followed the Koran,
He had no pictures done of him, this awkward .
He introduced an alphabet, took power in Iran,
And unified the Silk Road, this pathetic .
“A rare copy of Shakespeare’s First Folio sold for almost $10 million Wednesday,
becoming the most expensive work of literature ever to appear at auction,
according to Christie’s.” —CNN
The figure that thou seest was spent
On gentle Shakespeare, every cent,
When someone vowed to have his Will,
And came across for near 10 mill.
O if the buyer had to match
The value of this special catch,
The sale should further still surpass
All that was ever splurged in brass!
But if thou art a reader, look
Not on his pricetag, but his book.
“A boy gave a Baby Yoda to crews battling Oregon wildfires. They lovingly passed it among firefighters, across state lines.” —The Washington Post
The fire brigades of Oregon
Have filled their trucks, as per the rules:
Long cords, with reels to wind them on;
Hammers and hydrants; lockout tools;
Protective gear for all the crew:
Those super-boots and tags and gloves;
Big cylinders of CO2;
And last, the one the whole truck loves:
Their Baby Yoda (though we’re told
That those are not his proper names),
To us mere darling, but to bold
Opponents of the Western flames
A doughty, duffle-coated pal.
Firefighters Forcify he shall!
“CNN reporter Joe Johns was forced to fend off a raccoon on the White House lawn, moments before going to air. ‘Frickin’ racoons, man. God, again!’ he said.” —The Guardian
Though not to be reckoned as boons,
Let’s pardon the White House racoons;
Of creatures that sicken,
Racoons, although frickin’,
Are safer than maskless buffoons.
“An angry elk gored a Colorado man finishing a round of golf over the weekend” —CNN
The golfer needs to understand the rut, Especially when bulls are on the green. Elks don’t much care if you just want to putt, If keen to steal their dames is how you’re seen! No golfer should be ignorant of how Golf carts sound like a serenader’s tune: Once bulls believe you’re coveting a cow, Forget about a quiet afternoon! … For golfing irons poking from a bag, Approaching in a golf cart on the grass, Not only look like antlers to a stag, Elks fear they’re in the harem-stealing class! … Lest you be gored by antlers hard as nails, Keep golf bags out of sight of rutting males!
“What if gay guys took pictures of themselves making out with each other or doing very gay things, then tagged themselves with #ProudBoys. I bet it would mess them up real bad.” —George Takei
New, fabulous hashtag blows fascists away.
The Pride Boys are owning the Proud Boys today.
“SpaceX’s Starman and Elon Musk’s Tesla just made their 1st Mars flyby” —Space.com
Our landforms sinking under roads and cars,
Of course we’d have a roadster prowl past Mars,
A “starman” propped up in the driver’s seat
To prospect for the next world to deplete.
“Photographs of a Turkish scrap yard shows once glamorous cruise vessels being torn apart, their component parts harvested for reuse, recycling or disposal after being retired early due to the pandemic.” —CNN
Gilt princesses of the sea,
Lately gowned in luxury,
Dandled in the ocean’s lap,
Find themselves now ripped for scrap.
Grace and elegance afloat
Black tie, dance floor, tables d’hôtes,
Sprawl before the common crowd,
Crumpled, cruddy, and unbowed.
What’s become of all the pride
Lighting once the starboard side?
Beauties lustrously bedecked
Are retired, disposed of, wrecked.
Pampered guests no longer care.
For these dead boats, sigh a prayer.
