Poems of the Week

Volunteering?

by Felicia Nimue Ackerman

“The Common Good Awards 2025 are to businesses that “inspire philanthropy …
by encouraging staff to go into the community to help people in need.”
—Rhode Island Monthly

If your company is steering,
Then there’s ample room for doubt
That you’re truly volunteering—
What’s the cost of opting out?

Conveyance

by Dan Campion

“Carbon atoms in our bodies travelled galaxies before returning on cosmic ‘conveyor belt’”
Manchester Evening News

Not only are we “star stuff” but
We’re mass-produced, like cars!
No wonder we find every rut,
And each new speed bump jars.
We’re quarried, sorted, sifted fine.
“Conveyor belts” come next;
We’re then assembled on the line.
Born instantly perplexed,
We roll down on the avenue,
Run into scrapes and jams,
And get recycled, when we’re through,
As future models’ prams.
From Henry Fords to Adam Smiths
To Ra hand-crafting pharaohs,
Our atoms circulate like myths
And rocket like Pierce-Arrows.

Unenlightened

by Alex Steelsmith

“Dark Energy May Not Exist. … The truth could be much stranger—
bubbles of space where time passes at drastically different rates. …
‘Dark energy is a misidentification […],’ says [physicist] David Wiltshire.”
Science Alert

Abracadabraca,
famous dark energy
might not exist? It’s a
cryptic remark,

leaving the rest of us
non-astrophysicists
semi-ironically
still in the dark.

Deus Exit Machina

by Marshall Begel

“Can God speak through A.I.?”
The New York Times

Can AI see inside your heart
(Despite the cynical facade),
And find the basis to impart
Advice of an omniscient god?

With access to the internet,
This sage is sure to utilize
The tales of triumph and regret
We prized enough to digitize.

But don’t expect this techno-savior
To make us heathens more devout
By mimicking online behavior
Where garbage in yields garbage out.

Salary Malady

by Stephen Gold

“[Swedish] men are sadder when their wives earn more, study finds”
—The Times

It’s just sickening to see
That my wife earns more than me,
How it makes me feel inadequate and small.
To a modern macho male
It’s a monumental fail,
When a guy brings home less bacon than his doll.

Size does matter, that’s a fact.
I deplore her lack of tact,
As she shamelessly ascends the greasy pole.
Can’t she see how I’m depressed
That she wants to be the best?
It’s distressing that she doesn’t know her role.

As I waste away my days,
With no prospect of a raise,
I reflect on the unfairnesses of life.
In the whole of Scandinavia,
Ain’t nobody gonna save ya
From the sorrows of a high-achieving wife.

Fortuna 500

by Julia Griffin

“Michelin-starred sushi restaurateurs the Onodera Group said they had paid
207 million yen on Sunday for [a 608 pound] bluefin tuna, roughly the size
and weight of a motorbike.”
The Guardian

“A woman with no man,” we said, “is like … ”
The motto seemed forgotten, but this year
(Allowing for the upgrade of the bike)
We’ve half of the ingredients right here.

Verily, Verily—Merrily, Merrily

by Neil Doherty

“There is Faith in Humor”
—Pope Francis, The New York Times

No wonder the pontiff is popular.
This priest is a regular bloke:
A little bit pious, but jocular,
The man tells a bloody good joke.

In that sanctum of pomp and pomposity,
Let the bishop break out in a grin.
A little old-fashioned jocosity’s
No longer a cardinal sin.

Unsecret Santa

by Julia Griffin

“‘Santa Claus’ sarcophagus believed to be discovered during excavation project…
The discovery was made at St. Nicholas Church in the Demre district of Antalya,
Turkey, as part of an excavation initiated by Turkey’s Ministry of Culture and
Tourism. The sarcophagus was found in the church’s two-story annex, which is believed
to be the original burial site of Saint Nicholas, a bishop who lived in the ancient
city of Myra during the fourth century.”
Fox News

’Twas the week before Christmas, and all round the tomb
Stood cameras, ready for watchers on Zoom:
An expert has pinpointed (pause for applause!)
The last-known address of the Saint known as “Claus.”
’Tis he, who dropped dowries through chimneys, and froze
False Arians out with profound Ho, Ho, Ho!s,
Stopped famine, showed Nicaea’s Council the way,
And dodged Diocletian with reindeer and sleigh.
How splendid an Advent adventure to find
The grave of this bishop, the best of his kind!
And the tourism agencies own with a cheer
That Christmas has come one week early this year.

Last Chanukah

by Matt Schatz

(After Wham)

Last Chanukah, I gave you eight hearts
But the very next day
You gave me oy vey

This yontif
I’ll get what I want if
I give them to my friend Heschel

Make Me One With Everything

by Steven Kent

“A Bagel Shop Closed, and the Upper West Side Is Absolutely Losing It”
The New York Times

Burning planet on the brink,
Millions lacking food and drink,
Flood and fire and endless war—
Lots to be alarmed here for.
Still, what leaves us screaming twice is
Called by some a First World crisis:
Can’t acquire and can’t finagle
Absolute, the New York bagel.

Donut? Muffin? Let’s be clear:
Nothing else is worth a schmear.
Upper West Side, represent—
Time to voice our discontent,
Draw a line now in the sand, man:
This aggression will not stand, man!
Angry, surely—got to shout it.
Sara Lee? Fugeddaboudit!

Ignorance Is Bliss

by Steven Kent

“Feeling at home? New app lets US homebuyers see neighbors’ politics”
The Guardian

The couple to our left is to our Right,
And now we barely sleep a wink at night.
We wonder: are they equally bereft
To learn we’re on their right but on their Left?

Follicular Folly

by Stephen Gold

“Intermittent fasting ‘can make your hair shorter and thinner'”
The Times

In my efforts to get slim,
I have found that fasting’s grim,
And its side-effects have left me quite appalled.
Though I may have shrunk in size,
I am speechless with surprise,
And cannot believe my eyes—I’m going bald!

I’m follicularly screwed!
Pardon me for being rude,
But I can’t describe my overwhelming sorrow.
It’s so true, as has been said:
Choose to spurn your daily bread,
And you’ll find that hair today is gone tomorrow.

Bashplemous

by Iris Herriot

“A few years ago…, locals fishing Georgia’s Bashplemi Lake in the municipality
of Dmanisi came across… a small stone tablet inscribed with dozens of mysterious symbols.
Now a team of archaeologists from across Georgia has confirmed the impressions represent
samples of a [Bronze Age] script that has never been documented … Roughly the size
of an iPad, the basalt tablet features just 39 different characters in 60 inscriptions
written left to right across seven lines. … Who crafted the symbols, or why, is open to speculation.”
Science Alert

The tablet of Bashplemi Lake
Is declared by the experts no fake,
But they cannot yet tell
If its content’s a spell
Or directions for making a cake.

Or perhaps it’s what comes by default
If you press, accidentally, ALT:
═ ╠ ʘ ╪ ╒ ╦
╟ ╧ ⸨ ↂ ╬ ╩
(To be taken with pinches of Ө).

Criminal Chronicle

by Marshall Begel

“A woman’s self-incriminating diary entry helped police arrest her on auto theft charges.”
MSN

As personal diary, I can provide
A judgement-free space in which you can confide
Embarrassing incidents making you blush,
Your troubles in art class, or blossoming crush.

And while you are musing, be sure to report
Your major pursuits of the criminal sort,
With all of the details you’re able to share,
Including the names of the friends who were there.

I promise, you’ll feel a cathartic release.

Sincerely,
Your Journal
(and local police)

Starship Willie

by Dan Campion

“Could mouse sperm orbiting Earth be the future of humanity?”
CNN

Some questions just should not be asked.
This is, of many, one.
I understand a scribe was tasked
To make a headline fun,
But—due respect to Mickey Mouse,
Toward Minnie, sweetly potent—
I’d think a Berlioz or Strauss
Should donate, not a rodent.