“Though most Americans probably missed Trump’s false claim … that Alabama was likely to be hit by Hurricane Dorian, he spent the rest of the week highlighting his own embarrassing mistake, touting a map that had clearly been altered with a Sharpie, then repeatedly complaining that the media owes him an apology.”—New York Magazine
Oh, I came out from my Mamma with a Sharpie in my hand.
When I looked at Alabama, I made Dorian expand.
Alabama! Oh, don’t you blush for me!
Got no votes from the Bahamas. You’re my top priority.
I had a dream the other night, the storm obeyed my will,
but when I woke, the fake news said, it’s going northward still. That made the comics laugh at me and score their stupid points,
but good folks in Alabama won’t stop oiling all my joints.
Alabama! Don’t you weep for me!
I will say your name forever till the idiots agree.
“Germany celebrates birth of rare twin pandas at Berlin zoo [The] cubs will be returned to China once they no longer need their mother. But for now, Berlin is celebrating.”
—The Independent
O strike the sweet Harmonium
And blow the big Euphonium:
The panda fandom crowds the pen—
But all we’ve got’s a loan.
Accept our testimonium:
The Zoo’s in pandemonium:
We’ll have to hand ’em over—then
Prepare for Panda Moan.
“The 17-month-old girl who was shot [in Odessa, TX] was identified by family friends as Anderson Davis. … Anderson’s mother … said her daughter’s vital signs were good and that she had shrapnel in her chest, her front teeth had been knocked out, and she had a hole through her bottom lip and tongue. But Anderson was alive, she wrote, which was ‘a prayer answered bigger than I’ve ever had to pray.'”
—The New York Times
“Gun laws were loosened in Texas the day after the state’s second mass shooting in a month.” —Vox
What news of baby Anderson? It isn’t of the best:
She’s bullets through her lip and tongue and shrapnel in her chest;
But hear her mother speak of it—the words she finds to say: A prayer answered bigger than I’ve ever had to pray.
The standard type of monster made the usual rampage:
He murdered seven people, of a lengthy range of age,
But Anderson survived it, and her mother blessed the day: A prayer answered bigger than I’ve ever had to pray.
The Lord is unpredictable—on that we can agree
But anyone can well predict what Texas law will be,
And no one’s counting blessings like the godly NRA: A prayer answered, bigger than I’ve ever had to pray.
Dear Vladimir, my bosom buddy Vlad,
The Faux News media have found me out.
I fear my situation’s looking bad.
My re-election chances are in doubt.
I’ve danced whenever you have pulled my strings,
Turned allies into foes and foes to friends,
Stirred discontent at home, and other things.
Your rubles have paid handsome dividends.
I may request asylum—are you on?
Your faithful and devoted servant, Don
Dear Donald, Comrade Don as you prefer,
I take it you are seeking my support.
You’re found out as a phony—a poseur.
I’d like to help, but I’m a little short.
The world is being primed for Russian rule.
My oligarchs and I have work to do.
We’ll find another dupe who’ll play the fool.
Truth is, we have no further use for you.
No hair spray, dressed in orange—be of good cheer
In prison! Do svidaniya, Vladimir
“Boris Johnson’s decision to prorogue parliament is an unlawful abuse of power, a Scottish court has heard in the first of three legal challenges.” —The Guardian
The mandateless one’s machination
Has brought an old term back in vogue
Aptly matching the whole situation,
A verb with the element rogue.
The gadget looks like Leonardo’s sketch.
I think he’d smile to see his notion stretch
Its rotors in another planet’s air,
Albeit not with full-scale gunship’s flair.
A chopper up surveying Ares’ lair
Might spy—who knows?—a page of H.G. Wells
Translated for the Martian generals.
Those gay and transgender parades deviate
From bro dos and don’ts. They get way too ornate.
But we know the right way to march and to mate.
We step out with pride. Our red hats make us great—
The hats plus the fact that we’re totally straight.
Two things we like naked are hooters and hate.
“President Trump has suggested multiple timesto senior Homeland Security and national security officials that they explore using nuclear bombs to stop hurricanes from hitting the United States…” —Axios.com
A storm approaches Florida
And the quandary of each resident
Is whether to fear the hurricane
Or nukes from their own president.
World temperatures are rising And likewise soon the sea?
We must turn down our heating, We must live carbon-free—
But, first, let’s all thank Denmark For turning down the D.
“The Democratic primary dropouts are coming a mile a minute now.” —CNN
Remaining hopefuls on my Facebook feed
proclaim the many donations they need
so they can go to the Houston debate.
Why do they think I’d consider it great
to see two-times-ten once more in the crowd
attempting to speak, for crying out loud?
I’m grateful to Moulton and Ojeda
for helping to make the debates better.
Also Gravel, Inslee, Hickenlooper.
If more would follow, it would be super!
Joe Biden says, “Just ‘cause you’re poor
There’s no reason at all you can’t score
Just as high as a white.
You still can be bright!”
Would someone please show him the door?
