by Steven Kent
“Circumcision kits found on sale on Amazon UK as concerns grow over harm to baby boys”
—The Guardian
Problems coming to the fore:
Skin left scarred and so much more.
ER doctors say you’re nuts
Letting laymen make these cuts.
Listen, buddy, get a grip,
Learn a lesson, take a tip:
Should your babe not be a goil,
Never hire a self-taught mohel.
by Dan Campion
“Why Trump doesn’t need to own Greenland to build Golden Dome”
—Politico
No need to read the details, folks.
Our Don’s a Kubla Khan
Whose head’s a wheel of golden spokes;
Our bold Bellerophon
Can build a dome in Xanadu,
Or in Upstate New York,
Or Canada, or Katmandu,
Or Crete, or County Cork.
Why Greenland? it’s your right to ask.
Be careful if you do.
Khan Don has flipped. If called to task,
He’ll flip the bird at you.
by Chris O’Carroll
“Nick Fuentes, an unabashed admirer of Adolf Hitler, said President Donald Trump went too far—even by his standards—with his ‘despicable’ remarks about Rob Reiner the morning after the famed director and his wife were found stabbed to death. ‘This is ugly rhetoric. It is ugly, it is actually evil,’ Fuentes said on his show on Monday. ‘Forget for a moment that we are in a war— someone gets murdered by their son, it’s a horrific tragedy. This is a horrible story, and nobody deserves that. I don’t care what their politics are.’”
–Mediaite.com
Your day of reckoning has come
When even Nazis think you’re scum.
by Julia Griffin
“Relief and reward for passengers as Rome’s ‘museum stations’ finally open … Colosseo-Fori Imperiali contains the remains of a Republican-era townhouse and a thermal bath believed to date back to the beginning of Rome’s imperial period, and 28 wells that were used long before the first aqueduct was invented. Dozens of relics found during the metro station’s construction are displayed behind glass screens, including jugs, bowls and votives, such as a stag’s antlers and hairpins, found in the wells.”
—The Guardian
Commuters rushing past the ancient Fora
Rejoice to find at last they need not dally.
Now there are working trains, not just an aura,
At Colosseo-Fori Imperiali.
But should they choose to do so, they’ll discover
Delights undreamed of: horns and other votives
To charm the heart of every knowledge-lover
Dependent on the City’s locomotives.
One day, our era may return the favor.
When all we’ve built is buried ten yards under,
I’d like to think that some inventive paver
Will hit on something generating wonder:
A toothbrush—maybe sacred? Bits of freezers
With fragments still inside? Perhaps a stocking
Will join the treasure-coffers of the Caesars,
And seem no less exciting, no less shocking
To those to whom we’re even now bequeathing
Signs of the funny ways we live and die:
Proofs that this place was really run by breathing
Bodies with brains, not cobalt with AI.
by Steven Kent
“House Republicans pass health care plan without re-upping insurance subsidies”
—Politico
Insurance, no—
We’re deaf to all your pleading.
Here’s Motrin, though,
And Band-Aids for the bleeding.
All’s well, God bless;
Your welfare won’t impact us.
It’s simple, yes:
We preach what we malpractice.
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“My daughter earns more than me—should I still gift her £200 for Christmas?”
—The i Paper
Yes, do it every year as an investment,
And when you reach old age with all its ills,
You’ll have a healthy balance in the guilt bank,
To shame her into covering your bills.
by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons
“Study finds dropping an expletive can raise confidence and help people push harder during physically demanding tasks”
—The Guardian
For topmost performance condition,
Be boosted by disinhibition,
Opines Richard S—
Meaning dare for success
By repetitive F-bomb emission!
by Steven Kent
“You don’t need alcohol on Christmas Day. It may be far more enjoyable if you stay sober”
—The Guardian
No whiskey, no vodka, no beer?
No liquor of any kind here?
You want me to try
The holidays dry?
You don’t know my family, my dear.
by Steven Kent
“Patient police say they have recovered Fabergé pendant from man accused of swallowing it”
—The Guardian
Our thief, Dear Watson, stands now under sentry—
The evidence, you see, is alimentary.
by Michael Stein
“Let’s make one thing crystal clear: Admiral Mitch Bradley is an American hero, a true professional, and has my 100% support. I stand by him and the combat decisions he has made—on this September 2 mission and all others since. America is fortunate to have such men protecting us. When this @DeptofWar says we have the back of our warriors—we mean it.”
—Pete Hegseth on X
I wasn’t there the whole attack,
But love how he left no one livin’!
And rest assured: I have his back.
(‘Cause that’s where I just stuck the shiv in.)
by Bruce Bennett
“Honeybees… [sometimes make honey from] the sticky, sugary substance that spotted lanternflies leave behind after slurping tree sap…. The proper term for this substance is honeydew, but that’s really just another word for poop.”
—The Washington Post
I eat this honey by the scoop,
but now they tell me it’s just poop.
I really have adored the taste.
How could I know that it was waste?
No more! I’ve laid aside my spoon.
I’ve learned my lesson none too soon!
Yet Dear, though now I know it’s funny,
I always will still call you Honey.
by Nora Jay
After Nahum Tate
“US diplomats have been ordered to return to using the Times New Roman typeface in official communications, with secretary of state Marco Rubio calling the Biden administration’s decision to adopt Calibri a ‘wasteful’ diversity move, according to an internal department cable…. The department under Rubio’s predecessor Antony Blinken switched to Calibri in 2023, claiming the modern sans-serif typeface was more accessible for people with disabilities…. [The cable says the return to Times Roman will] ‘restore decorum and professionalism to the Department’s written work products and abolish yet another wasteful DEIA program…'”
—The Guardian
As consuls typed the docs assigned,
Unsure what Trump might want,
The Secretary (not that kind)
Harangued them: “Change that font!
“Decorum’s what we’re all about!
We’re back to Times Gone By!
Low-caliber Calibri’s out,
With wasteful DEI!”
Back came the Serif, whereupon
Appeared a shining wad
Of Times New Roman rants from Don,
At one remove from God.
So, shame to traitors snarling jokes
And squawking squinters, please:
All glory be to soothing strokes
On Ds and Js and Ts!
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“The chicest Christmas [sweaters] you’ll actually want to wear this winter”
– Evening Standard
My regimen of exercise and diet
Goes all to hell when Christmas rears its head.
I want my sweaters oversized and ugly,
To camouflage my nascent Christmas spread.
by Clyde Always
“Backstreet Boys singer Brian Littrell faces off in court with senior citizen he says has been trespassing on his private Florida beach … Littrell also sued the Walton County Sheriff’s Office in July, claiming it wasn’t doing enough to protect the family from trespassers.”
—New York Post
The plaintiff is a Backstreet Boy.
His case has raised a stink.
He’s suing people who annoy.
Too bad they’re not NSYNC.
by Julia Griffin
“Ancient Egyptian pleasure boat found by archaeologists off Alexandria coast:
First-century luxury vessel matches description by the Greek historian Strabo, who visited city around 29-25BC … Strabo had visited the Egyptian city around 29-25BC and wrote of such boats: ‘These vessels are luxuriously fitted out and used by the royal court for excursions; and the crowd of revellers who go down from Alexandria by the canal to the public festivals; for every day and every night is crowded with people on the boats who play the flute and dance without restraint and with extreme licentiousness.'”
—The Guardian
The barge she sat in once was gone long since;
The water cooled; the golden prow stripped bare,
Splintered and rotted; the delicious hints
Of perfume melted into air, thin air.
“Extreme licentiousness!” old Strabo wrote
(He had not been invited); “revelry
Without restraint!” No more: the glowing boat
Seemed cold as Caesar’s monument. But see:
Today once more the waves begin to swell;
Soft, purple echoes, surfacing, recall
The stroking oars, the ancient serpent’s spell
That beggars all description (nearly all);
And there she sits, commanding at a touch:
If it be love indeed, tell me how much …