by Dan Campion

“Elon Musk has given $75 million, so far, to put Donald Trump back in the White House”
—NPR

Be careful, Elon! Croesus was
This planet’s richest king,
But Cyrus, who had greater buzz,
Made him his underling.

by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons

“Voters don’t believe Boris Johnson’s most controversial claims in new book, poll finds”
—The Independent

Believe in me. This modest ego trip
Of fewer than eight hundred pages will
Retell the story of my statesmanship.
In retrospect, it will appear as skill.
Spare‘s author, whom, with manly pep talks, I
Urged not to leave GB, may claim we had
No chats; the Palace may flat out deny
Liz R had sought my help; that Oxford grad
Ennobled, Dave, who fought the Brexiteer
And lost, may yet gainsay aspersions he
Slung swearingly my way; and polls, I hear,
Have found that voters too do not trust me.
Et tu, Brute? … The joke may soon hit home,
Dear reader—you have bought a rubbish tome!

by Stephen Gold

“Three-armed robot conductor makes debut [before an orchestra] in Dresden”
—The Guardian

Bernstein, Böhm and Barbirolli
Wouldn’t tolerate such folly.
Had they let this thing conduct,
They’d all have been completely finished.

by Julia Griffin

(After W.E. Henley)

“Conkers cheating row as men’s champion found with steel chestnut:
David Jakins [“King Conker”] says metal replica discovered in his pocket was only ‘for humour value’”
—The Telegraph

Out of the green, o’er-prickled case,
As glossy as the noblest steed,
It swings in might, till all give place
To my unconquerable seed!

Confronted by the strongest foe,
It would not deign to dodge the act,
Prevailing with a single blow:
A little dented, but uncracked.

What though a rival, sick with spite,
Found in my garb a seed of steel?
That was for jest and not for fight,
And we shall win upon appeal.

It matters not how losers sore
Like Johnson-Ferguson demur:
Roan Beauty triumphs! And the corps
Of kings and conquerors concur.

by Felicia Nimue Ackerman

You’re finding it hard to decide?
Let practical sense be your guide.
To help you get over the hump,
I’m listing the virtues of Trump:

by Orel Protopopescu

(With apologies to Lerner and Loewe)

“The Trump Voters Who Don’t Believe Trump”
—The New York Times

They’ve grown accustomed to his hate…
They call it “riling up the news.”
They love the music of his wails,
the Molotov cocktails
of threats and cries,
transparent lies.

They know he’d never do that crap.
It’s just the way he likes to schmooze…
He promised lots of stuff before
that never made it past his lips.
Surely only fools would think
he’d cash in all his chips.
They’ve grown accustomed to his nice,
his synonym for White,
accustomed to his hate…

They are so used to hear him say
to them, “I love you,” every day…
his hos, his lows,
his lists of foes
are second nature to them now,
like getting all their news from X.
And they’re so grateful he’s a man
who can keep women in their place,
raping them with feudal laws
and, lordly, by His Grace,
they’ve grown accustomed to a boar
who’s “fascist to the core,”
accustomed to his hate…

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“What happens when you don’t wash your bedsheets”
—The Independent

Well, chat and date and flirt and mix and mingle
However much you want—you’re staying single.

by Matt Schatz

Here comes another Beatles doc!
This one’s called Beatles ‘64,
The rare Scorsese film that lacks
A Rolling Stones’ song in its score.

by Jesse Anna Bornemann

“Woman Who Tried to Smuggle 29 Turtles Wrapped in Socks Pleads Guilty:
A resident of Hong Kong was caught while paddling across a lake from Vermont to Canada
in an inflatable kayak with the Eastern box turtles in a duffle bag…”
—The New York Times

Twenty-nine is quite a haul!
Fourteen pairs of socks in all…
Plus, one lone soul without a mate.
(My laundry mirrors Turtlegate.)

by Bruce Bennett

“NASA Launches Europa Clipper to Explore an Ocean Moon’s Habitability”
—The New York Times

Off for Europa! It will take it years,
But what the Clipper spacecraft “sees” and “hears”
Will give us knowledge precious and profound—
Provided, that is, we are still around.

by Iris Herriot

(After Cole Porter)

“Emmanuel Macron: We will fight hard to keep Emily in Paris in France:
Hugely successful Netflix show has been a boon to French tourism but latest season takes events to Rome
… [According to Macron:] ‘Emily in Paris in Rome doesn’t make sense.’”
—The Guardian

Shall I say what I feel for this timeless ville,
As I stuff my croissants with clichés?
Though eternal it’s not, it beats Rome by a lot
And it merits this twofold praise:

I love Emily in Paris in Paris,
I love Emily in Paris in la France,
I love queuing for the Louvre in the Louvre,
I love Sartre with his oeuvre, said as “ouvre”;
I love Paris in Paris in the springtime,
I love Paris in Paris in the fall,
I love Paris in Emily in Paris,
And Charles de Gaulle de Gaulle de Gaulle de Gaulle de Gaulle.

by Steven Kent

“JD Vance’s slick performance can’t hide the danger of another Trump presidency”
—The Guardian

“You promised not to fact-check here,”
One would-be VP shouted.
“Your bias now is all too clear,
Which my side never doubted.

A fabulist can’t catch a break
(Though not for lack of trying),
And yet you’ve made a big mistake—
They love me more for lying!

We know our voters well, you see;
We’re quick to turn the tables.
You think they want veracity?
They much prefer our fables.

by Stephen Gold

“Wimbledon ditches line judges after 147 years”
—The Times

Technology’s a wondrous thing,
Of that there is no doubt.
But don’t expect my heart to sing.
Alas, it means I’m OUT!

by Alex Steelsmith

“A team of Pennsylvania students broke a Guinness World Record by dropping an egg
from a height of 83 feet without it breaking.”
—UPI

Lickety-quickety
team Pennsylvania
knew that they couldn’t make
any mistake.

Record and egg had an
interrelatedness;
one or the other they’d
certainly break.

by Marshall Begel

“Graves could be reused under proposals to tackle lack of space for the dead”
—BBC

“I’ve been in this graveyard for 100 years,
And never heard stewards request volunteers
To open their parcel to any, but worms—
No dignified soul would agree to these terms!
My plot needs some weeding, my box may be shoddy,
But I will not share it with some other body!”

“Well, friend, your descendants (who couldn’t be found)
Neglected to safeguard this small piece of ground.
And please understand this idea wasn’t mine—
Some real estate manager fed us a line
Inflating the money my children would save,
If they would agree to this “slightly” used grave.

You’d better accept being double-interred,
For soon enough, we will be getting a third.”