Poems of the Week

Talibanter

by Nora Jay

“‘A few beatings won’t kill you’: judge rejects divorce request of woman abused by husband in Afghanistan”
The Guardian

Oh, go away, you noisy female pill, you;
This court’s too busy to indulge your shrieks.
A beating husband isn’t going to kill you!
But if he does, we’ll jail him for two weeks.

Jagger? I Don’t Even Know Her!

by Steven Kent

“Source close to Rolling Stones disputes Melania producer’s claim Mick Jagger ‘gave his blessing’ to use song”
The Guardian

Melania needs a heavy hit,
But let us be on the level:
Gimme Shelter’s not as fit
As Sympathy for the Devil.

Noemesis

by Julia Griffin

“Trump removes DHS Secretary Kristi Noem after controversial tenure:
In his post, Trump praised Noem as having ‘served us well’ and praised her for ‘numerous and spectacular results (especially on the Border!’).’”
The Washington Post

She built a face of plaster;
Her lips were rubber-coated;
But still she irked her master,
And now she’s been demoted.

Her record he’s defending;
No word of botch or bungle;
But now she’s apprehending
The ethics of the jungle.

The wolves that she’s been thrown to
Are ones she once insisted
No mercy should be shown to,
And gleefully delisted;

Now she herself’s de-POTUSed,
Whereon a thankless nation’s
In hopes the wolves have noticed
That dogs are their relations.

Giving Up the Bottle

by Marshall Begel

“’The rumors are true! I’m retiring and saying goodbye to the world of cleaning to pursue new hobbies,’ Mr. Clean said in a statement.”
PennLive

He’s hanging up his plain white tee
and growing out his hair,
as Mr. Clean, retiree,
retracts his nom de guerre.

As mascot for his namesake brand,
he figured it was time
to let his ad campaign disband
and end his life of grime.

Perhaps there was some secret tryst
or other tabloid shocker—
was he revealed on Epstein’s list
or caught with Betty Crocker?

The reason for his abdication
is likely unsurprising:
a tactic of a corporation
to get free advertising.

Taking Stock

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“At 81 I’m an amateur investor with £370K in stocks. What should my next move be?”
The Telegraph

Considering you’re 81,
I’d sell them all and have some fun.

The Upper Hand

by Stephen Gold

“Why Hendrix, Churchill and Bowie had a helping hand to success”
The Times

Though being a left-hander
May help one to compete,
I tell you in all candor,
Not so with two left feet!

A Feature, Not a Bug

by Steven Kent

“Good news for Trump before midterms: He’s still more popular than cockroaches”
The Guardian

He’s loved here less than crickets, less than ants.
Respondents claim—when given half a chance
To speak about this topic pollsters broach—
We’re better off with bugs (except the roach).

Ironic, no? At last the great divider
Unites us now in favoring the spider.
If ever Trump starts going incognito,
We’ll know he got outpolled by the mosquito.

Dead Wrong

by Thomas Germana

“A Dallas native has been declared dead by the Social Security Administration four times since 2017, despite being very much alive.”
Fox 4 News

The feds insist she’s dead. They’re wrong;
Her heart’s been beating all along.
And yet, despite this oversight,
Eventually, they will be right.

Out Of Pocket

by Julia Griffin

For Mary; after Praed

“’America says goodbye to the mass-market paperback: The so-called ‘pocket book’ sold in supermarkets is being phased out across the US, the latest sign of an ongoing shift in how people are choosing to read.”
The Guardian

Goodnight to the mass-market paperback!
We’re flocking no longer en masse;
They can’t get the train station gaper back;
Commuters just shrug as they pass.
There’s nobody left to peruse them
On Walmart’s or Albertsons’ racks:
With Kindle at hand, who would choose them
When each is $8, plus tax?
Where once they seemed cheap, they seem pricey;
It’s not like their quality’s great,
And if we desire something spicy,
Well, words on a screen have no weight.

Goodnight to the mass-market paperback!
Alas, there’s no way to entice
The reader (that faithless escaper) back—
At least, without crashing the price.
A few might appear sentimental
(Thus proving their hearts are not stones);
However, a larger percent’ll
Move on, unconcerned, with their phones.
So finish your blinking and gulping:
The market must always be right:
The new age is golden for pulping:
Good night, old companion, good-night.

News in Briefs

by Steven Urquhuart Bell

“Do we really need to replace our underwear every six months?”
The Guardian

No matter how intense the wash,
They get a little mucky.
So yes, replace them twice a year—
Except if they’ve been lucky.

Royal Aides’ Horse Sense

by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons

“Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor ‘banned from horseriding’ by royal aides after arrest”
The Independent

Get off your high
Horse, Andrew, lest
The tabloids spy
A photo fest

That would be bad
For Charles’s brand—
It’s why we’ve had
Your horse rides banned …

You’ve done no wrong
And feel aggrieved?
The odds seem long
You’ll be believed:

Not even your
Own steeds appear
Entirely sure
You’re in the clear—

When asked if A’s
Not guilty, they
Avert their gaze
And answer “Neigh!”

Poets’ Resilience

by Marshall Begel

“Wisconsin Assembly Speaker Robin Vos to retire”
Wisconsin Public Radio

Rumor has it Robin Vos
saw the writing on the wall
pointing to election loss
and chose to quit before the fall.

If poets act as legislators
as Percy Shelley aptly wrote,
would they flinch at indicators
tracking some upcoming vote?

No poet would abandon writing
for fear of losing an election—
they’d absolutely go down fighting
when so accustomed to rejection.

A Certain Transparency

by Steven Kent

“Trump says he will order the release of Pentagon files on aliens, UFOs”
The Guardian

Open files on UFOs,
Each and every word of ’em!
I’m the King who wears no clothes—
I’m transparent, Heaven knows.
Epstein? Maxwell? Who are those?
Hardly even heard of ’em!