by Dan Campion
“US Air Force is guarding against electromagnetic pulse attacks. Should we worry?”
—Livescience
Sure, what’s another worry more,
Electrons on a spree,
A pulse that fries, from shore to shore,
Our power grid. Search me
Why we would shirk a further dose
Of pure anxiety.
Our limit? We’re not even close.
Pile on the EMP.
by Julia Griffin
“‘Phantom Tollbooth’ Author Norton Juster Dies At 91”
—NPR
With all the gratitude that we can muster,
Let’s toll the bell, or booth, for Norton Juster,
The man who showed, as nobody, bar none, did,
How time well spent is constantly refunded.
We learned, through Milo’s captivating caper,
That numbers taste; that clapping looks like paper;
That which is not a witch and words need weighing,
And sayings go, like going without saying.
Think of him now conducting sunny days, as
Amazing but much wiser than King Azaz,
Shining with all of Rhyme’s and Reason’s luster:
The Just shall live; so, surely, shall the Juster.
by John Wood
Shamelessly namelessly
Myanmar Generals
Show us what’s needed to
Rise through the ranks
And retain government
Undemocratically:
Ruthless self interest and
Plenty of tanks.
by Alex Steelsmith
“From the rubble of a ruined church, Pope Francis led prayers for victims of war in Iraq’s battle-scarred city of Mosul on Sunday, as part of a historic visit intended to bring solace to a Christian community that the Islamic State militant group tried to wipe out.”
—The Seattle Times
Holy-oh moly-oh,
Jorge Bergoglio
stood in the ruins and
prayed for his flock,
knowing that churches have
vulnerabilities,
even when built on a
rock in Iraq.
by Nora Jay
“New York woman discovers secret apartment behind bathroom mirror …
[She] finds open windows and a heap of trash bags. She also discovers an empty water bottle, which she calls a ‘sign of life’.”
—The Guardian
Alice peeks behind the glass
And discovers—not, alas,
Dotty knight or grinning cat,
But a dismal sort of flat,
Less suggesting real estate
Than a hidden packing crate,
Trashy, empty, cold, too small
For the thinnest Hare to call.
“My unbirthdays,” Alice grunts,
“Must have all arrived at once.”
by Orel Protopopescu
“Twitter Founder Jack Dorsey Is Auctioning Off the World’s First-Ever Tweet as an NFT—
and the High Bid Is Already $2.5 Million”
—Artnet
How sweet the tweet that landed first,
before brute fingers did their worst.
When Dorsey typed in lowercase
five words, he changed the human race.
Although the last was not a word
one could pronounce, his tweet was heard
like Armstrong’s step upon the moon,
still pristine, not with wreckage strewn.
Dorsey will give to charity
the millions paid by NFT.
What’s worth far more than that amount?
His silencing of one account.
by Daniel Galef
(after Edmund Bentley)
“FBI Director Wray knocks down conspiracy theory that January 6 rioters were ‘fake Trump protesters’”
—CNN
Christopher Wray
said “I saw no Antifa that day—
just trumped-up trolls
maligning the polls.”
by Iris Herriot
“Walker ‘stunned’ to see ship hovering high above sea off Cornwall
David Morris encounters rare optical illusion known as superior mirage
while out on coastal stroll”
—The Guardian
A ship at anchor in the sky!
It’s senseless to the human eye;
How can it be that this should be
Reality? For what we see
With light and sight and wonder flips
The truth of sea and sky and ships.
The truth of sea and sky and ships
With light and sight and wonder flips
Reality for what we see:
How can it be that this should be?
It’s senseless to the human eye:
A ship at anchor in the sky!
by Alex Steelsmith
“Mr. Potato Head to lose ‘Mr.’ title in gender-neutral rebrand”
—BBC News
“Most scholars since the time of the English philosopher Francis Bacon (1561–1626) have agreed
that the tendency to anthropomorphize hinders the understanding of the world.”
—Stewart E. Guthrie
Yammering, stammering,
Mr. Potato Head
cries, “Honorific or
not, it’s a sham!
Either way, humans who
anthropomorphically
doll me up don’t have a
clue what I yam.”
by Chris O’Carroll
“6 Dr. Seuss books won’t be published anymore because they portray people in ‘hurtful and wrong’ ways”
—CNN
The Foxters were fuming, the Foxters were sad.
Now Seuss is offensive? The left has gone mad!
But was there one word from some talking head’s mouth
Against Disney for “canceling” Song of the South?
From that unabashed racism back in the day
We’re en route to a better American way.
Though so many Seuss words and Seuss pictures are good,
Still he could have done better, as all of us should.
He is one of the greats and a man of his time,
So to love him and yet look askance is no crime.
We just hope we are raising our children so well
That when we, too, go wrong they’ll be able to tell.
by Julia Griffin
“Last month, [Amazon …] dropped its longtime shopping cart image … in favor of Amazon’s smiling-face-arrow on a package with a ridged piece of blue tape. Positioned on top of the smile line, it looked a bit like the mustache of German dictator Adolf Hitler, users on Twitter pointed out. This week, Amazon updated its app logo again… and quietly folded the tape on top of the image.
Amazon spokesperson Craig Andrews did not directly address the Hitler comparison claims. ‘We designed the new icon to spark anticipation, excitement, and joy …,’ he said.”
—The Washington Post
We designed the new icon to spark
Excitement and joy—nothing dark:
Look closer, belittler:
It’s really less Hitler
Than recently satisfied shark.
by Stephen Gold
“[Brazil] is facing more Covid deaths and cases than ever… . In addition to a president who scoffs at the disease,
rejects masks and leaves each state on its own, the country plays host to a variant that’s more
contagious and possibly deadlier.”
—Bloomberg
(To the tune of “The Coffee Song”)
Way down among Brazilians,
It’s infecting multi-millions,
There ain’t never been so many people ill.
They’ve got an awful lot of coffins in Brazil.
That moron Bolsonaro
Chills his people to the marrow,
When he tells them, “You don’t even need a pill!”
No ifs or buts, that guy’s just nuts, down in Brazil.
Look out for fatality,
In every locality,
And favela dwellers yelling, “Won’t you go, go, go!”
So have you felt a shiver?
Did the Amazon deliver
You a virus who’s desirous to kill?
It won’t make nice. Take my advice, and make your will!
by Nora Jay
“‘My pubic hair paintings could hang in your living room’: the artists reclaiming women’s sexuality”
—The Guardian
My pubic hair paintings could hang in your living room!
Think of the prospect, the wondering hush:
Find yourself, purchaser, simply by giving room,
Brushing with justice and fame! (What a brush!)
The pubic is public, it’s not just a hobby;
Re-snatched sexuality’s now a hot buy:
Hang me with pride in your foyer, or lobby,
Or 30-foot atrium. (Discounts apply.)
by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons
“Pope Francis says secret to a long life is no exercise, daily naps and classical music”
—The Irish Post
Pope Francis does not like to exercise,
As it would leave too little time for sleep:
Postprandial siestas, in his eyes,
Are sacred rites a pope is bound to keep!
Lord knows, at eighty-four, he’s going strong:
Longevity prevails, but not the gym.
Old J.S. Bach is why this pope lives long—
Non-Catholic composers rock for him!
God’s on his side, and after lunch, so’s he,
Enrobed—though shoeless, he won’t doff his gown.
Vin rouge and pasta seem to be so key,
Inducing this life-lengthening lie-down! …
The sedentary pope prompts doctors’ fears—
Yet he may still outlive them all by years!
by Eddie Aderne
“Vladimir Nabokov’s Superman poem published for the first time
In ‘The Man of To-morrow’s Lament’, rejected by the New Yorker in 1942, the Lolita author imagines
the superhero mourning his inability to have children with Lois Lane'”
—The Guardian
O Lois, O Lois, O light of my loins!
Alas, I’m compiled with such obvious joins
(Aside from my habit, which scarcely invites,
Of wearing my underwear over my tights)
That you, my sweet sin, may not find me your type;
Besides, to be frank, you’re a touch overripe;
But though we may neither conceive nor beget,
I nonetheless swear, my archaic nymphet,
I’d fly, for your sake, the extraneous mile!
You can count on your Clark for a fancy verse style.