by Iris Herriot
“In the US, the most popular baby names last year across all demographics
were Liam, Noah and Oliver for boys, and Olivia, Emma and Charlotte for girls. …
[I]t takes a century for a name that’s gone out of style to come back in.”
—The Guardian
Hooray for you, newlyweds, Charlotte and Liam!
Whom nothing’ll part until death’ll:
And then you’ll be wept for by (though you won’t see ’em)
Your grandchildren, Algy and Ethel.
by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons
“Questions over why Boris made Charlotte Owen youngest peer grow after new investigation”
—Independent
Before I was installed as Baroness
Of somewhere you have never heard of, I
Refrained from saying much, as saying less
Ingratiated me with Tory high
Society, where if your head can bob
Sufficiently, your star can quickly rise:
Before you know it, you have bagged a job,
Advising your PM to hide his lies …
Reporters raised a stink when Boris J—
Or he who’s neither daddy nor my beau—
Nommed nine of us for lives of lordly sway.
Eight failed: they smelled too rank. But I had no
Such problem, since my résumé was blank.
So I’m a peer for life—the utmost rank!
by Alex Steelsmith
“Premenopausal women who have surgery to remove the ovaries…
may face chronic medical conditions… ”
—UPI
Harmony, hormoney
taking out ovaries
isn’t advised for most
women; in fact,
those who consider an
ovariectomy
need to be cautious, not
ovariact.
by Julia Griffin
“Cascades of red wine flood a city’s streets in Portugal after huge tanks rupture”
—NPR
In quaint São Lourenço, no angels will tread:
The streets are all streaming with Portugal Red.
You’d think that the heart of the village had bled,
But no! It’s a river of Portugal Red.
The wine, like the story, has steadily spread;
Our reading is dripping with Portugal Red;
Levira’s the wellspring, the grand fountainhead
Of ruddy and rubicund Portugal Red.
Fly in and mop up what the vintners have shed!
Come soak yourself silly in Portugal Red!
Or if you want sherry, try Jerez instead,
And skip this importunate Portugal Red.
by Marshall Begel
“Delhi gets cutouts of langurs to ease [rhesus monkey] menace during G20…
[with] ’30 to 40 people’ who mock their sounds to create the impression
that the animals are alive and moving.”
—Reuters
New Delhi is humming! World leaders are coming
And we need to show them our best!
So we are employing the shrill and annoying
To come out and beat on their chest!
If you are so daring, we’ll pay you for scaring
the monkeys we don’t want around.
Hoot loud as you can as you hide the bananas
To make those pests go underground!
When meetings are ended, the primates offended
Can freely return to our streets,
But please stay nearby because tigers aren’t shy
And we’ll need people acting as meats!
by Alex Steelsmith
“The US Open… was interrupted by climate protesters… with one of the protesters glueing
their feet to the floor of the stands… Chants of ‘Kick them out! Kick them out!’
had rung out across Arthur Ashe Stadium.”
—The Guardian
Frustrated, flustrated
tennis enthusiasts
face a new tactic they’re
quick to condemn:
anti-petroleum
protesters holding the
floor for as long as the
floor’s holding them.
by Nora Jay
“Pink leather armchairs and bomb-proof floors: inside Kim Jong-un’s armoured train”
—The Guardian
Pink leather furniture and bomb-proof floors!
A mixture every sycophant adores,
While critics might derive a lesson, viz.
How ugly “Barbenheimer” really is.
by Marshall Begel
“‘Beer goggles’ study finds alcohol does not make people seem better looking”
—The Guardian
From lunk
To hunk
When drunk?
It’s bunk!
by Alex Steelsmith
“[A] pungent marijuana smell that wafted over [a U.S. Open] court,
clouded the concentration of one of the world’s top players…”
—AP
Sniffity, whiffity
billowing cannabis
rose through the stadium
rankly; indeed,
fans could imagine the
all-too-ubiquitous
plant as the tournament’s
number one seed.
Prominent, dominant
tennis competitors
came to perform on a
hardcourt; alas,
some were apparently
dazed and surprised to be
involuntarily
playing on grass.
Rackety, whackety
players’ performances
needn’t be called into
question; no doubt,
if there’s a problem our
cannabis-influenced
tennis officials are
hashing it out.
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Bruce Springsteen announced… that he was postponing shows…
while he is treated for symptoms of ‘peptic ulcer disease.’”
—AP
Young rockers make the news with their addictions;
Old rockers make the news with their prescriptions.
by Julia Griffin
“New Zealand woman discovers surgical instrument ‘size of a dinner plate’ left in her body
after operation: Woman suffered abdominal pains for 18 months after caesarian section until scan
revealed an ‘Alexis retractor’ had mistakenly been left inside her”
—The Guardian
A medic—a rather bad actor—
Forgot an Alexis retractor
In someone’s C-section,
Escaping detection
Until it had virtually cracked her.
The verdict (it wasn’t redacted)
Condemned what the negligent quack did:
“One purpose of checks is
Detecting Alexis:
Make sure your retractor’s retracted!”
by Chris O’Carroll
“Kanye West and Bianca Censori may want to rethink their public displays of affection
after wearing out their welcome with a boating company in Venice, Italy. … In the viral images,
West is sitting down with his pants hanging low enough to expose his bare buttocks.
Censori appears to have her head in his lap in a compromising position…”
—Atlanta Black Star
The water taxi ride was fun,
But they blew their chance for another one.
by Steven Kent
“Society of authors calls use of bad reviews for book blurbs ‘morally questionable'”
—The Guardian
His cover needs a blurb; hey, that’s the biz.
I found a short review, such as it is:
I’ve never read a book like this before.
The author has no insight, wit, or skill.
He fails to form important thoughts and more;
His “best” work yet is still sophomoric swill.
Not great, but let me show you how to share
The fulsome praise that’s neatly hidden there:
I’ve never read a book like this before.
The author has . . . important thoughts and more;
His best work yet. See boys, that’s how it’s done—
I dare you now to write a better one!
by Julia Griffin
“[D]river pulled over with huge African bull riding shotgun in car:
Converted vehicle stopped in Nebraska with gigantic-horned Watusi bovine called Howdy Doody as passenger …
‘The officer wrote him some warnings,’ [police Captain] Reiman told the TV channel.
‘There were some citable issues with that situation.’”
—The Guardian
A bull—an imposing Watusi,
With horns that were quite Dr. Seussy—
Was caught sprawling wide
On the driver’s right side:
A thing no Watusi should do, see?
The officer wrote them some warnings,
As officers do many mornings:
Efficient, prepared,
And entirely unscared
By the prospect of hoofings and hornings.
The bull (he was named Howdy Doody)
Appeared quite embarrassed, or moody:
No bovine would choose
To displace, on the news,
The misfortunes of Donny or Rudy.
by Marshall Begel
“The James Webb Space Telescope recently captured a stunning new image of…
an orange formation in the unmistakable shape of a question mark…”
—NPR
For eons we have looked above
For answers to our questions
On grief and joy, on angst and love,
And followed all suggestions.
But as we begged the astral plane
To tell us what to do,
We never thought to entertain
That it had questions, too.