by Alex Steelsmith
“Major supermarket recalls popular sausage product over safety risk: ‘Could cause harm if consumed.’”
—The Cool Down
Moaningly, groaningly,
something you’ve nibbled on
troubles your gut; peri-
stalsis is stalled.
What have you eaten that’s
un-gastronomical?
Try to remember; it
must be recalled.
by Julia Griffin
“Mohammed, do you sleep at night? How do you sleep?” [Trump] said, addressing the 39-year-old crown
prince, who was seated directly across from him in the audience. … The crowd applauded as Trump said:
“He’s your greatest representative, greatest representative. And if I didn’t like him, I’d get out of here so fast.
You know that, don’t you? He knows me well. I—I like him a lot. I like him too much.”
—CNBC
Mohammed, Mohammed, O how do you sleep?
O how do you sleep so at night?
Ah, Donald, ah, Donald, our friendship’s so deep,
I’ll gift you my secret outright:
There’s lots I don’t think of on laying me down:
Beheadings, behandings galore;
The floggings to death for insulting the Crown;
The blood on an embassy floor;
There’s media silenced, arrests without proofs,
And children found slaughtered in jail,
With nameless intransigents bundled off roofs,
Or tortured for not being male.
I’m telling you, Donald, for brotherhood’s sake,
Delighted you hold me so dear;
Forgetting these things, I do not stay awake;
There’s nothing I can’t disappear.
Mohammed, Mohammed, I like you, I do,
If not, I’d get going so fast!
Ah, Donald, ah, Donald! United, we two
Will jointly outdistance the past.
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Man and woman arrested over beach brawl”
—BBC
Vacationing couples are seldom apart,
Which can be a bit of a trial.
It isn’t surprising the smallest of shocks
Can trigger tsunamis of bile.
A day at the seaside to soak up some rays
That doesn’t go strictly as planned,
And one of the two can unwittingly cross
The other one’s line in the sand.
by Kaitlyn Spees
“Whip-smart, unputdownable, lyrical, dazzling, pitch-perfect. Taut, tender, a tour de force. A triumph. Unflinching, stunning, mesmerizing, evocative. You will have seen a book—probably many, many books—with some of these words, what one might call blurbiage… on its cover. Often, these quotes will be just that one word. But the process by which those single words are acquired is a fraught one. So much so that last week, one top editor at a major publisher, Sean Manning at Simon & Schuster, made an unusual and attention-grabbing announcement about them. … Under his leadership, authors won’t be ‘required’ to spend ‘an excessive amount of time’ getting blurbs for their books.”
—Slate
(With apologies to Anne Bradstreet)
Thou short, trite offspring of my busy brain
(Throughout the whole damn industry a bane),
I squeeze thee out for friends less wise than true.
Thou gloat’st from glossy covers in full view
Of critics, readers, publishers, who all
Completely fail to fall beneath thy thrall.
Am I not recognizable enough?
Or is the blurbing genre just too tough?
(The book I blurbed? I can’t say that I know—
I skimmed the first two pages. Found them slow.)
by Bo de Plume
“”Maple Leafs vs. Panthers Game 7 recap: Toronto knocked out of Stanley Cup playoffs after ‘pathetic’ loss””
—Toronto Star
In springtime, fall comes to Toronto.
The playoffs start; the Leafs fall pronto.
by Philip Kitcher
Not to be sung by Julie Andrews
Liberal judges and “their” Constitution,
Do-gooder programs for redistribution,
Legal procedures for clipping my wings,
These are among my least favorite things.
College professors who always disparage,
Wives who have lingered too long in a marriage,
Having to shake off a woman who clings,
These are among my least favorite things.
Nations in Nato that don’t pay their way-ay,
Plans for vaccines made from mRNA-ay,
Freedom of trade and the losses it brings,
These are among my least favorite things.
When the deep state
Blocks my golf date
And I’m feeling sad,
I simply demolish some unfavored things,
And then I don’t feel … so bad.
Critics who carp at my choices of clients,
Scurrilous rubbish that’s passed off as science,
All interference with immigrant stings,
These are among my least favorite things.
Salesmen for Darwin who hoodwink the masses,
Hoaxes created about “greenhouse gases,”
All of the flak when an ex-henchman sings,
These are among my least favorite things.
Discrimination by DEI quotas,
Counting the ballots of non-MAGA voters,
Limits attached to the conduct of kings,
These are among my least favorite things.
When the deep state
Meets its dark fate
I shall not be sad,
For I’ll have demolished all unfavored things,
And then I shall feel … less mad.
by Nora Jay
“Families of victims appalled as Boeing seems likely to avoid prosecution over 737 Max crashes
Trump’s justice department is considering a non-prosecution agreement, through which Boeing
would not need to plead guilty”
—The Guardian
It seems that Boeing’s CEOs
Are off the hook. You can’t suppose
That such distinguished coffer-fillers
Would share the fate of common killers?
The victims’ families may moan,
Or they may not. They’re on their own.
We’ve graver questions to be sorted,
Like which sick babies get deported.
by Bruce Bennett
“Harvard Paid $27 for a Copy of Magna Carta. Surprise! It’s an Original.”
—The New York Times
Magna Carta? Just in time!
Unambiguous. Sublime.
Genuine, and what we need.
Would-be Kings must now take heed.
Straight to us from Runnymede.
Clear as day—to those who read.
Clear as day—to those who care.
In the archives, waiting there
Patient, wise, right on the mark!
How we need you in this dark
now descending. How we crave
you, and what you’ll help us save!
Magna Carta! What a gift!
Just in time to help us lift
this cruel burden. Not just nice.
Priceless words at any price.
by Timothy Steele
“The president has indicated he wants to eliminate FEMA . . . and to have states have more control
over their emergency management response. He wants to empower local governments and support them
and how they respond to their people.”
—Kristi Noem, Secretary of Homeland Security, testifying before Congress
Never, in emergencies,
Give federal aid to those in shock:
Folks with legs severed at the knees
Can learn to use their hands to walk.
by Julia Griffin
“Cardinals are watching Conclave the movie for guidance on the actual conclave”
—Politico
So back beneath the holy roof we go,
Inspirited by Michelangelo:
The ballots are set out; each takes his seat
To do his duty by the Paraclete.
We calculate the risks of an impasse:
This wants gay marriage, that the Latin mass;
This mentioned women priests, that looked askance
At fossil fuels, divorce, and J.D. Vance.
At last the deal is done. We greet the folk
With long-awaited puffs of snowy smoke:
Habemus Papam! Number 267,
Approved by us, and, so we hope, by Heaven,
Though somebody, inevitably, whines:
I still believe we should have picked Ralph Fiennes.
by Paul Lander
New Pope’s first edict?
“If J.D. Vance should stop by,
tell him, ‘I’m not home.’’’
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Powerball winner who took home $167m is arrested after ‘kicking’ a cop the next day”
—The Independent
If I won a hunk of bread,
I’d try to keep a level head—
Not go around behaving like a dick.
But then again, if I could say,
“A fine, your honor? Yes, I’ll pay,”
I’ve got a list of folks I’d love to kick.
by Eddie Aderne
“Dead Arizona road rage victim addresses killer in court through AI:
Clip of Chris Pelkey, who died in 2021, says: ‘I believe in forgiveness’
after his sister fed an AI model videos of him”
—The Guardian
Not wishing to be bilious or ranty,
I’m not much pleased by how this ups the ante.
Pardon your burglar, cheating spouse, what will you;
But really, those who actually kill you?
You’re up there with the highest type of saint if
You’ll favor the defense and not the plaintiff:
It’s only right, as such a noble specter,
That you should face a stringent lie-detector.
As for myself, though I applaud your charity,
I recognize hereby my own disparity:
Theft or adultery, I might ignore it;
But murder me, I won’t forgive you for it.
by Thomas Germana
“Last summer, [a 24-year-old mom in Helsingborg, Sweden] told her young daughter
they’d be baking an apple cake together for a wholesome little TikTok video.
Instead of flour and sugar, the girl got an unexpected ingredient: an egg,
cracked straight onto her forehead by her own mother, yolk dripping down her face,
all for the amusement of the internet. … She was convicted of harassment and ordered
to pay SEK 20,000 (roughly $2,070) in damages to her own daughter.”
—TownFlex
Eggity crackity,
Mother in Helsingborg
Messed with her kid and was
Put in her place,
Paying the price for her
Eg(g)ocentricity.
Now who’s the one with the
Egg on her face?
by Marshall Begel
“Fully robotic burger joint means less hair in our food”
—New Atlas
Since human cooks have been replaced,
our burgers are no longer laced
with strands of hair, odd drips of sweat,
or similar organic threat.
Robotic chefs of sterile steel
prepare and serve your fast-food meal.
But now, your midnight burger cravings
might be topped with metal shavings.