by Ross Moyer
“Thieves stole over 100 whoopie pies in Maine”
— Boston Globe
Maine has had a dreadful theft
of very special grub.
One hundred, count ‘em, whoopie pies
were pilfered from a club.
Who consumes so many treats?
Perhaps they’ll fence the cakes.
At least, unlike with stolen art,
the goodies can’t be fakes.
by Dan Campion
“The Ocean on Jupiter’s Moon Europa Has Table Salt, Just Like Earth’s Seas.”
—Space.com
Glum Saturn flashes gaudy rings
But lacks for señoritas,
While lusty Jove stocks basic things,
Like salt for margaritas.
by Julia Griffin
“Researchers have discovered something massive lurking under the dark side of the moon: a mysterious blob with the mass akin to a pile of metal five times the size of Hawaii. …
The team discovered the anomalous blob by combining data … . While the excess mass isn’t immediately obvious from the surface, it does seem to be having quite an effect, dragging down the lunar landscape in a curious ovoid depression…”
— National Geographic
Beneath the South Pole-Aitken Basin—
A crater festooning the Moon,
Since somebody pummelled its face in—
There’s something that’s like a balloon,
Or maybe a grapefruit or baseball,
Offside in a hole in the sky—
Some sort, that’s to say, of a spaceball
That’s five times the size of Hawaii.
“What is it? What is it? Don’t know yet,”
Say experts at work on the job;
“We think we’ve got some way to go yet
With this, The Anomalous Blob:
“It may be a bale of detritus:
Stone, silicon, sandbags, or socks;
It may be designed to affright us—
A spherical, ticking black box;
“Perhaps it is hollow and hairy:
A lonely, uncanny cocoon
Just waiting to hatch something scary
And gently unwind in the Moon …
“We’re sure, though (concluding this session),
Our Blob’s having quite an effect:
The Moon’s got an Ovoid Depression—
As really one ought to expect.”
by Nicole Caruso Garcia
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
While hosting dinner for the MAGA clown.
by Julia Griffin
This is no home for caravans:
This is the USA,
And so we’ve tightened up our bans
In hopes you’ll go away.
You say you’re fleeing tyranny
And military powers,
But this is not your home, you see?
It’s crowded and it’s ours.
These camps are growing every day,
As is what we are spending,
So extra things for which we pay
Will presently be ending.
Your juveniles will not, henceforth,
Get sports or education.
Please think of this when rolling north
To crash our private nation.
by Barbara Loots
“Jackson jail’s screening policy on
underwire bras causes an uproar.”
—Kansas City Star
Her underwires have caused a blip:
the lady lawyer has to strip.
What contraband might be holed up
suspiciously in that D-cup?
A shiv, a razor blade, a gun,
a six-pack, a forbidden phone?
A bra with such a sturdy frame
could hold a kilo of cocaine.
Attorneys wearing certain bras
are not exempted from the laws
preventing key and belt and shoe
and kitchen sink from passing through.
Never mind your background clearance.
There’s no telling from appearance,
say officials, what’s in there
besides your lacy underwear.
The hapless client’s legal aid,
and justice, too, must be waylaid.
by Ruth S. Baker
“Wild bees from Argentina are building their homes from plastic”
—National Geographic
Some bees make homes in human eyes.
Some build with shards of plastic.
If these two groups should compromise,
Things might get rather drastic.
by Dan Campion
In the room the members come and go,
Impeachment, yes; impeachment, no,
To the last syllable of recorded time.
Then Time will clearly say it: “Crime.”
by Nora Jay
“Led not into temptation: Pope approves changes to the Lord’s Prayer
The pope said in 2017 he believed the wording should be altered. … ‘It’s Satan who leads us into temptation: that’s his department.'”
—The Guardian
O let us not fall to temptation:
This upgrade deserves an ovation.
The Lord should not do
The leading into—
Except during Satan’s vacation.
by Ruth S. Baker
“Anderson Cooper forgot to tell his Mom he was coming out.”
—Entertainment Weekly
Perhaps he should have told her—what’s polite is mostly best;
But by the time he’d come half way, she surely must have guessed.
by Ruth S. Baker
“Austrian official warns against ‘cow-kissing’ challenge for charity.”
—HuffPost
When it’s blowing from the south,
Kiss no cow upon the mouth.
Easterlies are fine for ships:
Not for kissing bovine lips.
Self-control in this is best,
Till the wind be in the west;
While there’s still a northern breeze,
Do not snog the cattle, please.
by Julia Griffin
“Everybody is tweeting about ‘cliff wife‘”
—The Guardian
“Watch my wife fall down a cliff!”
Tweets Jack, and shortly after,
He becomes a meme and gif
And butt of Google’s laughter.
“Cliff Wife Guy” now rues his life,
And Jill’s must also rankle:
Thanks to Jack, she’s Cliff Guy Wife;
She’s also bruised her ankle.
by Chris O’Carroll
“Trump’s misspelling of Biden’s name trends on Twitter”
—The Hill
I’ve said Joe Bidan has a low IQ,
And Little Rocket Man has said so, too.
Bidan’s a dummy. Kim and I both know
Stupidity when it puts on a show.
Believe us when we tell you who’s not smart
And whose deals are pure stable genius art.
by Julia Griffin
“Miss India 2019 organizers blasted for fair-skinned finalists.”
—India Today
The earth has nothing to show more fair
Than the belles who would be Miss India,
Mincing along in their Disneywear—
And every darn year pale-skinned-ier!
O who would have thought that the favoured sheen
Of a 50s Barbie- or Cindy-Girl
Would be de rigueur in the year ’19
For Punjabi- and Rawalpindi-girl?
O why must it be that the human peach
Who overcomes every rivalry
Is fleshed in a colour approaching bleach
And ethically-suspect ivo(l)ry?
Say, why can’t her darker sisters preen,
Lips puffy and paint meticulous—
Or collagen-free and size sixteen
(But that would be just ridiculous).
by Julia Griffin
“Man says an intruder broke into his house, cleaned it and left.”
—CNN
Yes, an intruder came and cleaned and left.
I’d really have preferred a normal theft
Or downright smash-and-grab-style daylight robbery
To this embarrassing unpaid odd-jobbery.
The bathroom’s full of toilet-paper roses,
As if we bought the paper for our noses.
We’ve changed the locks now—no more interloping!
(The kitchen window’s open, though. Here’s hoping.)