“British and French fishermen have clashed in the Channel, over alleged “looting” of the scallop fishing grounds there by British boats. … The French fishing industry is bound by an agreement not to fish for scallops between May and October, to conserve fish stocks.” — BBC
In trawler and in shallop we’ve pursued the precious scallop,
Chief ingredient of our Coquille St. Jacques;
But if you make your mission messin’ with our humble fishin’,
You limey bastards better watch your backs!
We shun those who are selfish when it comes to nettin’ shellfish,
When we’re limited to fishing by the book;
Those Brits who hate this ban’ll simply sail across the Channel,
But we won’t float there helplessly and look.
We’re pissed off—with good reason—for you ruthlessly can seize on
Technicalities that let you grab our stocks,
We’ll just see how well you get on, and how much you get your net on,
When we’re ramming you and pelting you with rocks!
We’ll gladly make a scene if it will guard our French cuisine;
We’ve got the courage and we’ve got the ships.
It’s your manners we deplore; we expected nothing more
From the nation that invented fish and chips.
Google “idiot” and guess whose face
Pops up, in Images, at Number One?
Little Donnie’s! Same with Second Place
As well as Third and Fourth and Fifth. What fun!
Google’s algorithm is to blame.
It does a lot of nifty little things
But can be twisted in a kind of game
Where rings of shifty people pull the strings.
Reddit’s right-wing forum tags nonstop;
On Reddit, smears and lies “are fine to post.”
Bill Clinton, tagged with “rapist,” hit the top
Of Google’s list. “Free speech,” their people boast.
But Little Donnie couldn’t wait to vent,
So even though it’s Reddit’s fault, for Pete’s
Sake, he takes aim at Google with intent
To bomb them to oblivion with tweets.
“An international team of surgeons have started measuring a tiger in India for an artificial paw, thought to be the first attempt in the world to fit one of the animals with a prosthesis. The eight-year-old male named Sahebrao was caught in a poacher’s trap along with his brother six years ago. The older sibling died, but Sahebrao was rescued and taken to the Maharashtra Animal and Fisheries Science University for treatment.”—The Guardian
Tyger Tyger, cross and dour
In the shelters of Nagpur,
What physicians dare apply
To mend thy damaged symmetry?
What brave souls, deserving awe,
Prepared thee a prosthetic paw?
Assign the proper credit to
The Maharashtra Science U:
Theirs was the hammer, theirs the chain—
Or so a poet might explain
The instruments they used to keep
Thy fearful sinews sound asleep;
And when their arts had laid thee flat
Beneath the scan that’s labelled CAT,
It was the Maharashtra crowd
That stitched thee up and did thee proud.
Tyger Tyger now complete
On thy newly-balanced feet,
Did they smile their work to see?
Or run like hell away from thee?
The Daily Mail reports that Jennifer Lawrence is seen reading Frank O’Hara’s Lunch Poems with her boyfriend; in fact, it turns out to be a $1500 purse in the shape of a book.
How funny you are today Daily Mail
not like Chris Pratt in Passengers
but maybe like Chris Pratt in something else,
before he got buff
where’s Jennifer Lawrence
she’s out reading
American Hustle
meet American Pastoral
hunger games at the hungry i
not that we like poetry (we just need it)
and the little handbag is on the bookshelf
next to the snowglobes
and the succulent plants
and the Oscars
oh god it’s wonderful
to carry a book around
and look smart doing it
but it’s better than a book
because can a book hold your change
i didn’t think so
by Julia Griffin “No, it isn’t truth!” Giuliani roared. “Truth isn’t truth.”—The Guardian
Better not match the things I say are true
With what I said I meant: truth is not truth
That doesn’t change when situations do,
But keeps recording like a photo booth.
Jeez no, it is an ever-spreading mark,
That looks on Daniels and is never shaken:
It is the sound of Giuliani’s bark,
Which is so loud you know he’s not mistaken.
Truth’s not truth’s fool, though failing NBC
May try to sabotage its wiggle-room;
What sets you free, why wouldn’t that be free?
Just bear me out, or watch me fire you, boom!
If this be error, and upon me proved,
Some low-life DOG is going to be removed.
“If 1967 was the Summer of Love, well, 2018 is starting to feel like the Summer of Food Poisoning. Oh how times change.”—The Boston Globe
“Eat salad,” they said. “It’s terrific for you.”
So I thought, “Why not give it a try?”
But later I turned a sick, yellowish hue,
So I’m sticking with stuff that they fry.
“Man injures himself falling into a black hole art installation that doesn’t look like a hole at all … The 1992 installation, a creation by Indian sculptor Anish Kapoor named ‘Descent into Limbo,’ appears to have no depth due to the extremely black paint it is coated in.”—ABC News
Don’t think a hole is just a lack;
Kapoor has painted this one black:
The sort of paradox that floors
Art less capacious than Kapoor’s.
Although it gleams like solid paint,
Experience reveals it ain’t;
So careful where you put your foot!
Don’t blame Kapoor when it’s kaput.
Hush, Omarosa, don’t say a word,
Papa’s gonna buy you a Thunderbird.
But if a vintage car won’t do,
Papa’s got a slush fund to see you through.
Did I scream Fired? Just stand the heat,
and then you can live on Easy Street.
But if you dare to let me down,
you won’t be the sweetest little flunky in town.
“Prominent white supremacist scolded on video by his father”—The Guardian
Heil, guys! Are you up for some news
Not faked by those commies and Jews
Out plotting our doom? Will you look at this room! You have got to start wiping your shoes.
You know what George Soros adores?
Non-Aryans flooding our shores,
And spoiling Jim Crow. Plus your mom wants to know If the socks in the bathroom are yours.
Let’s make those old liberals cower,
As we march down the street in our power!
Bring it all to a head! Did you hear what I said? It’s your very last chance for a shower.
The Master Race needs to unite!
Remember: be proud that you’re white,
Non-Muslim, and men. It is ten after ten, And I’m switching the lights out. Goodnight.
