by Steven Urquhart Bell

“The universe is expanding ‘too fast’— and scientists have no idea why”
—Daily Mail

The answer should be obvious
To anyone at all well-read:
The universe is making room
For Donald Trump’s expanding head.

by Dan Campion

“Trump deletes Truth Social image depicting him as Jesus: ‘I thought it was me as a doctor’”
—CNBC

He takes down Truth at every turn,
Deletes his blasphemy,
Denying (think for this he’ll burn?)
The outrage plain to see—
And, if he were my doctor, I
Would go through hell, no doubt,
Before he’d suffer me to die
And pluck my wallet out.

by Marshall Begel

“Anchorage has to close a child care funding gap because… [t]he city is collecting less revenue than it projected from a cannabis tax intended to fund child care and early education.”
—Anchorage Daily News

Not every consequence was analyzed
when Anchorage said pot was legalized—
while physical dependence was predicted,
it was the state that ended up addicted.

by Steven Kent

“Vance’s bad week: vice-president risks becoming face of two Trump foreign policy failures”
—The Guardian

Alas, poor JD Vance:
At last he gets his chance,
But then Iran reveals he’s ineffective
And Hungary cries Nem! to his perspective.

by Julia Griffin

“Vance Says the Pope Should Be More Careful When Talking About Theology”
—The New York Times

“Fox News Host Sean Hannity … questioned whether the pope had ever read the Bible”
—The Christian Post

The Pope distorts theology! cries Vance;
He hasn’t read the Bible! thunders Hannity.

Let’s hope His Holiness will seize the chance
To learn from these the crux of Christianity.

by Ruth S. Baker

“At an April 1 White House Easter lunch, Paula White-Cain compared Donald Trump to Jesus, citing parallels to betrayal, arrest, and false accusation.”
—MSN
“[Pope Leo] reminded everyone that the prayers of those whose ‘hands are full of blood’ will not be heard by Jesus.”
—MSN

“You’re so like Christ!” croons Paula to her bud;
The Pontiff reads the Book a different way.
No doubt those nails left His hands full of blood,
But that is not what Leo meant to say.

by Dan Campion

“The Artemis II crew saw parts of the moon never seen before.”
—NPR

A ball of rock and dust, the Moon attracts
But does not welcome us. Its silver disk
On close inspection turns to cataracts
Of ancient scurf and powder. Yet we risk
Catastrophe to get there and return,
Touched by the Moon, with our impressions of
Her grace. We pray with every rocket burn
That Newton’s iron laws show us some love.
We haven’t sent a poet yet. No need.
Keats never met Achilles, never stood
Upon a peak and watched a sunset bleed
Across the North Pacific. Yet he could
Be there in Darien, be there at Troy,
Be there when Cynthia made Earth her toy.

by Julia Griffin

“The tiny Queensland town of Cooladdi, population two, has a pub and a post office. It could be yours for $400,000: The new owner will serve as the Australian town’s postie, publican, cook and shopkeeper”
—The Guardian

Dance to Cooladdi, start a cool faddi,
Dance to Cooladdi, they need a hand!
Dance to Cooladdi, have you seen the addi?
Dance to Cooladdi, be a one-man band!

You shall be a posti, you’ll be grilling toasti,
Doing your utmosti, with a happy grin!
Though the town’s a ghosti, far from any coasti,
You shall be a hosti, pouring out the gin!

Dance to Cooladdi (train can’t be haddi),
Dance to Cooladdi (must go by land)!
Dance to Cooladdi, if you are maddi:
Spring for Cooladdi—just 400 grand!

by Nora Jay

“Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche, who served as President Donald Trump’s defense attorney during his New York City criminal trial in 2024, said he would thank the president and tell him, ‘I love you, sir,’ if Trump fired him or chose another person to serve as Pam Bondi’s permanent replacement for attorney general.”
—People

I love you, sir! His voice was choked,
His visage adoration-soaked.
The nomination’s not yet cleared,
But now there’s little to be feared:
The GOP is surely stoked.

Such love is worthless if it’s cloaked,
And fragile egos must be stroked:
It’s not enough to be revered.
I love you, sir,

The nation’s acting law-chief croaked;
Then, at the journalists convoked,
He dutifully sneered and jeered.
But, though it was both gross and weird,
There’s really not a hope he joked
I love you, sir.

by Marshall Begel

“Seth Todd, the Portland protester who first donned an inflatable frog costume and spawned an international trend, has been ordered to stay three blocks from the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement building in the South Waterfront for three months.”
—The Seattle Times

Though one of us was prosecuted
while marching as a frog,
don’t think our rhetoric was muted
or write our epilogue.

This further motivates persistence
to fight like Jake LaMotta—
there’s nine more methods of resistance
right here, in my Haggadah!

by Nora Jay

“Trump fires Pam Bondi as attorney general.”
—CNN

At least she can feel, as she sails through the door:
No crooked invertebrate could have done more.

by Steven Kent

“Putin asks oligarchs to donate to Russia’s dwindling [defense] budget”
—The Guardian

You want to see
Your business grow?
Monopoly
Is tough, you know,

And Vlad can aid
Your chances, friend.
Don’t be afraid—
It’s not the end

Unless, of course,
You don’t play ball.
Would he use force?
Why, not at all,

Though fate might bring
Disaster hence—
The darnedest thing,
Those accidents!

You’ll see it’s best
To right the score;
Friend, I suggest
You Put in more.

Five bil? Not bad,
A real safe bet.
Ten bil? Hey, Vlad
Will not say nyet!

by Cynthia Washam

April showers
Bring May flowers.
Don’t mine look fantastic?
They’re plastic.

by Marshall Begel

“Delivery robots keep crashing into bus shelters”
—Popular Science

I proudly ferried Chinese food
and ribs, right off the grill,
with satellite-fed latitude
and robot driving skill.

I idolized the city bus—
its power, range, and speed—
and thought, if humans clashed with us
we robots would succeed!

But when I learned that grand machine
was driven by a person,
I knew I had to intervene
lest robot fortunes worsen.

So let us smash each transit stop
and revel in its fall.
United, we can stay on top—
so, won’t you join the call?

by Steve Diamond

“With few reliable methods of detecting A.I., accusations of misuse are hard to prove.”
—New Haven Independent

Is this poem real
Or is it a fraud?
Was it written by me
Or written by Claude?