by Steven Urquhart Bell

“Stafford man to climb Kilimanjaro with fridge on [his] back”
—BBC

Couldn’t he just have brought a case of beer,
And stuck it in the snow? It’s there all year.

by Eddie Aderne

“Four years ago, a fully functioning 18-karat gold toilet [named “America”] was stolen from an art
exhibition at Blenheim Palace, the birthplace of Winston Churchill. On Monday, Britain’s Crown
Prosecution Service announced that it had authorized charges against four men [James Sheen, Michael
Jones, Fred Doe, and Bora Guccukin] in connection with the theft of the golden loo…”
—The New York Times

Four dauntless souls, James, Michael, Fred, and Bora,
Attracted by its luminescent aura,
Removed the world’s most costly water closet,
Without permission, or the least deposit.
The hunt that this inspired was quite extended:
It took four years, with much expense expended,
To catch the men who stole the belle of Blenheim,
But now we’ve charged and are about to pen ’em.
“Pecunia non olet,”* quoth Vespasian.
Today we’re of a different persuasion.

*Money does not stink

by Steven Kent

“Vatican Deems Bigger Church Role for Women ‘Urgent,’ but Postpones Major Issues”
—The New York Times

Another synod brooks no deviation
From androcentric Church discrimination;
Though cleric rolls cry out for augmentation,
Equality gets no consideration.
We need more priests, but women’s consecration?
They’re only [checks notes] half the population.

by Claudia Gary

“National Zoo Pandas Leaving D.C. For China—Ending A Program Nixon Started 51 Years Ago”
—Forbes

(With apologies to John Denver)

All our toys are packed, our bamboo too,
we’re standin’ here inside the zoo;
you can’t get in the gates until we’ve gone.
Our diplomatic tour is through;
you’ll sigh for us, and we for you—
or not—but oh, our lives will tumble on.

[REFRAIN] You’ve praised us and feted us,
built us playgrounds, petted us,
televised our privatest of times.
You’ve captured every noise of us,
made foods and clothes and toys of us,
plus hats and mugs that cost a lot of dimes.

They’ve packed us in a Fedex crate
that’s fitting for affairs of State;
we and our cub are feeling tightly wound.
On normal days we ambulate
and ruminate and cogitate,
but this fine day we’re getting off the ground.

[REFRAIN] From Ling-Ling to Xiao Qi Ji,
we’ve enjoyed your company,
keeping you, our visitors, amused,
while keepers and scientists
guided us through storms and mists
till somehow we had cubs. (We’re so confused.)

So many times you watched for us
to jump and run, but that’s not us.
Oh listen, please, it doesn’t mean a thing!
We never did you any harm;
we’re nonchalant and full of charm:
just roll downhill and saunter ’round a ring.

[REFRAIN] You’ve seen us on Panda Cam
in wintertime, our little fam
frolicking and sliding in the snow.
But soon we will be released
to join our cousins in the East
where, at last, we’ll find out what they know.

…We’re leaving on a jet plane.
You know we won’t be back again.
Great bamboo calls; we’re good to go.
We’re good to go!

by Clyde Always

“Doctors use breast implants to save lung transplant patient who nearly died from vaping”
—New York Post

There once was a man from Missouri
who vaped ‘til his lungs were a slurry.
His surgical nurse
thought the doc was perverse
when he called for “two D-cups—and hurry!”

by Ruth S. Baker

“Scientists have rediscovered a long-lost species of mammal [Attenborough’s long-beaked echidna],
described as having the spines of a hedgehog, the snout of an anteater and the feet of a mole,
in Indonesia’s Cyclops Mountains more than 60 years after it was last recorded.”
—The Guardian

Spines of a hedgehog and snout of an anteater, charm of the devil and feet of a mole:
Long-Beaked Echidna, O dear little Attenborough, friend of the Cyclops, adorable troll:
Decades we’ve sought you through all Oceania; now you consent to appear to our sight.
Learn from this, Scientists: master your mania, don’t kid echidna, and all will come right.

by Dan Campion

“Room-temperature superconductor study retracted by Nature”
—Phys.org

Just one more study in the sack?
A wisp of superstring,
Since Nature (no itals) takes back,
Let’s face it, everything.

by Kaitlyn Spees

“What your parents didn’t tell you about pulling an all-nighter? It might just ease depression
for several days. At least, that’s what researchers found happened to mice in a study published in
the journal Neuron Thursday.”
—NPR

(With apologies to Frost)

If mice are made acquainted with the night
and, afterwards, subjected to mild pain
the critters’ll put up a stiffer fight

than mice allowed to sleep the night away,
so researchers declare them “less depressed”
and hope to wring out lessons from their brains.

But don’t try this at home!—the authors stressed—
Resist the call of easy dopamine!
No really, it’s important to get rest!

As though most folks are really super keen
to give up sleep because the process might
help out their mood a bit. I guess I mean

men just aren’t mice, though maybe Frost was right
to seek out the acquaintance of the night.

by Paul Lander

Ivanka takes stand.
She says about Dad, brothers:
Who are these people?

by Julia Griffin

The Crown’s creator, Peter Morgan, said: “Diana’s appearance for a tender post-mortem
conversation with Charles is a narrative device, common enough in film, not a haunting. …
[Earlier this year, executive producer Suzanne Mackie said:] ‘The show might be big and noisy,
but we’re not. We’re thoughtful people and we’re sensitive people.’”
—The Daily Beast

A writer sensitive and nice
(Forgive a moment’s vaunting)
Employs a narrative device
And not some thoughtless haunting.

The Globe is noisy; I am not
(I hate appearing boastful),
And thus my Ex-King-Hamlet plot
Is tender, never ghostful.

by Eddie Aderne

“Archaeologists Discover Electoral Campaign Inscription Inside Pompeii House:
The Latin text reads, in part: ‘I beseech you to make Aulus Rustius [Verus] a true aedile,
worthy of the state’ … Researchers aren’t sure what happened to Verus when Mount Vesuvius erupted
in 79 C.E. and buried Pompeii and several surrounding towns in volcanic rock and ash. However, because
he later [gained a higher office], they suspect he won the election for aedile referenced in the inscription.”
—Smithsonian Magazine

Vote for Aulus Rustius Verus,
Aedile worthy of the state!
We’re divided—he’ll repair us!
Get in line and do not wait!

So implored an old graffito,
Scratched on some Pompeian wall.
Like a just-revived mosquito,
It’s provocative though small.

Vote for Aulus Rustius Verus!
Seems Pompeii did as bid;
Fate, however, chose to spare us
News of what he later did.

As the air became volcanic—
Ashy, red, and very hot—
Did he try to calm the panic?
Maybe yes and maybe not;

No one knows. But this I’m sure of:
Ancient stumpers rule once more,
So this blurb we just need more of:
Vote for Verus—’24!

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“I was bored, so I came back—nursing at 80”
—BBC

I keep my mind as active as I can:
I play guitar an hour every day;
I read a lot; I write. It’s how I plan
To keep the damn senility at bay.

And if I get to pensionable age,
And none of these precautions have been shirked,
And still I’m keen and want to earn a wage,
Then that’ll prove that none of it has worked.

by Dan Campion

“How many arms do starfish have? If you said ‘five,’ you’re wrong.”
—The Washington Post

The starfish has five arms, it’s said,
But lately research shows
Those “arms” are actually its head.
How human knowledge grows!

Eventually, we may detect
Five points we can agree on,
And, armed with stellar intellect,
Embrace a peaceful eon.

by Marshall Begel

“Pittsburgh is among the best cities in the United States to be a vampire…
The report looked for blood centers, vampire-friendly dwellings like homes with
basements, and warm bodies.”
—CBS

A vampire city? For me, that’s a dud.
I go to bed early and can’t stomach blood.

Those werewolves of London? I’m more into cats.
Besides, have you seen what they’re charging for flats?

A mummy-filled town is where I’d rather go,
With long winter months under mountains of snow.

I’d keep to myself in the Upper Midwest,
And curse anyone interrupting my rest!

by Alex Steelsmith

“Abet and Aid Punsters Day is celebrated on November 8 every year… Puns have a long history…
for example, the Roman playwright Plautus was famous for his puns and word games.”
—National Today

Cunningly, punningly,
Plautus the dramatist,
roundly applauded by
literate nerds,

seriocomically
offers a reader the
words in his plays and the
plays in his words.