by Neil Doherty

Gazump, verb. Unilaterally changing the terms of a property sale after an agreement has been reached.

Welcome to the billion-era,
A new and gilded Riviera.
For its pains, alas poor Gaza,
Now, God help us, is Trump Plaza.

by Alex Steelsmith

“Some discoveries are hard to stomach—literally… [A] 66-million-year-old vomit fossil
[has been found]… Regurgitalites, or fossilized vomit, are rare… [This one is attributed to]
a Cretaceous-era predator, possibly a fish…”
—NBC

Jiggery-pukery,
certain discoveries
have the potential to
make us feel sick.

What can we say about
fossilized remnants of
ichthyological
vomitus? Ich.

by Julia Griffin

“Donald Trump Jr accused of killing protected bird in Venice lagoon:
Italian politician said a video posted online showed Trump Jr with a ruddy shelduck while on hunting trip”
—The Guardian

If somebody says to you “Venice,”
What image occurs to you first?
Pink marble or shadowy menace?
Fair Portia or Shylock, accursed?
Bellini, or Otway preserving?
Du Maurier not looking now?
A Doge (why should that be unnerving?)?
A mask on a gondola’s prow?
Brave Corvo pursuing completion?
Sweet Milly pursued by Kate Croy?
Calvino, that meta-Venetian?
Poor Aschenbach’s beautiful boy?
Or do you, despite such bombarding
From artists in oils and in words,
Now find yourself glumly regarding
Trump Junior demolishing birds?

by Dan Campion

“In Greenland, the Ice Doesn’t Just Flow, It Quivers and Quakes”
—The New York Times

Perhaps the Greenland ice has heard:
What MAGA Central wants, it takes.
And though the concept sounds absurd,
The thought has given it the shakes.

by Clyde Always

“Bianca Censori made her jaw-dropping debut at the 2025 Grammys
alongside Kanye West… in a completely sheer mini dress.”
—Page Six

An eye-catching story:
Bianca Censori
showed up to the Grammys
in ebony fur.

This coat was concealing
a dress quite revealing—
she posed in it briefly
and left in a blur.

by Marshall Begel

“[Canadian police] have arrested six people after an investigation into the theft of [over $60,000 worth]
of butter and ghee…”
—City News

When hooligans flee with a fortune in ghee,
And innocent chefs are left stranded,
The victimized shops seek the help of the cops,
Who catch the cartel yellow-handed.

by Philip Kitcher

We’ve finished casting all the parts
and Pam will play the Queen of Hearts.
The standard order is reversed:
she will announce the sentence first.

by Marshall Begel

“Japan rolls out new recycled toilet paper made from used diapers”
—GoodGoodGood

The latest of trends for maintaining rear ends
Is good news for all of us wipers.
Instead of abusing our forests, they’re using
Recycled components from diapers.

Pandemics bring hoarding, inflation: affording
The tissue gets harder each year.
With options for cleaning while seated and leaning,
Those troubles are all to the rear.

Instead of polluting, we’re now substituting
The paper we use every day.
But since I’m not happy with some stranger’s nappy,
I think I’ll install a bidet.

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“Would you have sex with a robot?”
—The Telegraph

I’ve never treated sex as just a lark,
So only if I felt there was a spark.

by Kaitlyn Spees

“Starting in late fall each year, migrating newts have to cross a public road that divides their forested hillside
habitat from their spawning ground in a nearby [lake] … Now about 80 volunteers strong, the grassroots group
[Chileno Valley Newt Brigade] has for six years rescued more than 22,300 Pacific newts…”
—NPR

(With apologies to the King James Bible)

The Brigade’s my shepherd; I shan’t be squashed.

They arrest me in the beams of their flashlights; they ferry me across the asphalt.

They commission habitat studies; they dream of building tunnels underneath the road for me.

Yea, though cars may claim my tail or leg, a Brigade volunteer still scoops what remains of me off the pavement, comforted by my regenerative power.

The volunteer deposits me back where I was born; its waters embrace me; my spawn drop lakewards.

Why do these strange diurnal creatures follow me every migration of my life? They still believe in those grand old virtues of mercy and kindness, through selfless acts made new(t).

by Steven Kent

“Navajo alarmed by reports of Indigenous people caught up in Trump immigration raids”
—The Guardian

Attention, all you non-White folk:
Today you’re headed back
To where you came from. Not a joke—
Go grab your stuff and pack.

Invasion’s over, understand?
It ends right now, right here;
You’re gone, you’re out, you’re barred, you’re banned—
The Boss’s order’s clear.

Don’t care if you’re a Navajo
Or Cherokee or Sioux;
We took this land some time ago,
So you’re just passing through.

You’d best believe we’ll do our worst
If you’re in sight tonight.
Why should we care you lived here first?
We’re White, so might makes right.

by Bruce Bennett

“Researchers say there’s a 1.3 percent chance that the space rock 2024 YR4
could strike our planet—but not until December 2032.”
—The New York Times

We’ve got till 2032.
Till then there’s nothing we need do.

And meanwhile, it’s not even clear
that anything will still be here.

by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons

“My criticism of Trump was wrong, says [Peter] Mandelson…
[t]he UK’s choice for the next ambassador to the US”
—BBC

Perhaps I didn’t mean to say the prez
Endangers Earth by spouting reckless views—
There must be more to what this bully says,
Endearing him to viewers of Fox News.
Remarks made then are wrong now, and ill-judged:
My duty is to grovel on the floor,
Announcing he’s fair-minded, he’s begrudged
No more, and even consequential for
Diplomacy between our countries. His
Extraordinary mandate means I must
Learn fresh respect for MAGA-friendly biz,
Suck up to him on-air, and earn his trust
On everything … till, in my memoirs, I
Need not deny that Trump’s a nutjob guy!

by Iris Herriot

“Long-lost anti-fascist mural from 1930s restored and back on show in Mexico”
—The Guardian

While Mexico prepares to show an anti-fascist mural,
We self-administer a kind of civic epidural:
Why march? Why join? The news is so fatiguing we’re near fainting;
So let’s instead admire this monumental, distant painting.

by Julia Griffin

“The official portrait of First Lady Melania Trump was captured on January 21, 2025,
in the Yellow Oval Room of the residence by esteemed photographer Régine Mahaux.”
—whitehouse.gov

Her hair is loose. Her skin is tight.
This FLOTUS is our most soignée.
She sees the world in black and white:
It’s all more elegant this way.

This FLOTUS is our most soignée.
The light is sharp. The lines are clean.
It’s all more elegant this way:
Half CEO, half Disney Queen.

The light is sharp. The lines are clean.
She’s guarded by an obelisk:
Half CEO, half Disney Queen.
You’re welcome, if you take the risk;

She’s guarded by an obelisk,
Remote and cool against the sky.
You’re welcome, if you take the risk:
Come, look her in the narrowed eye.

Remote and cool against the sky,
Her hair is loose, her skin is tight.
Come, look her in the narrowed eye:
She sees the world in black and white.