by Steven Urquhart Bell

“Rome calls in cleaners armed with shovels to fight Colosseum’s rat infestation”
—The Telegraph

But don’t let on they’re cleaners. Tell the public
They’re members of a reenactment group,
And tool them up with swords and nets and tridents,
And play them martial music on a loop.

Then spread the word: “Not since the days of Empire
Has Rome played host to such a thrilling bout—
Voracious wild beasts and gladiators!”
You’ll rake it in—unless you’re ratted out.

by Chris O’Carroll

“Does President Biden want to limit Americans to two beers a week?”
—Fox personality Peter Doocy

Fox is ginning up the fear
That Biden wants to seize our beer.
The libs are out to harsh our mellow,
Whether Bud Light or Modelo.
As with so much Foxy news,
This is pretty low-proof booze.

by Iris Herriot

“Museum of London identifies man who raised alarm over Great Fire [of 1666]…
[T]he first witness… was Thomas Dagger, a journeyman baker… said [researcher] Kate Loveman…”
—The Guardian

“Is this a Dagger that I see before me?”
The Scholar cried. The Specter whispered: “Kate:
No one will blame you if you just ignore me.
I saw; I spoke. But it was all too late.”

by Steven Kent

“‘Rich Men North of Richmond’ singer condemns Republicans after song used in debate”
—The Guardian

Now listen to me, hoss:
Remember when The Boss
Was real misunderstood in ’84?
When Reagan tried to say
“Born in the USA”
Is rah-rah optimistic to its core?

The time is out of joint;
Again you’ve missed the point
Invoking me this way. (What else is new?)
How dare you quote my song
And get it so, so wrong—
I’m singing here about the guys like you!

by Marshall Begel

“Eggo’s ‘Brunch in a Jar’ marries booze with brunch… The sipping alcohol,
which is 40 proof, is meant to highlight all the flavors found at your typical
brunch spread ― bacon, syrup, butter and of course, Eggo waffles”
—NJ.com

I’ve found a dish that I can make—
It’s better than that protein shake—
This modern breakfast that you pour.
In fact, I think I’ll have one more.

Why go to some ol’ restaurant?
They never serve you whatchu want—
For instance… breakfasht you can pour!
I thing I’ll have myself summore.

Now every day, I’ll rise frrom bed,
No crackin’ eggs or toashtin’ bread.
For I’ll have breakfast that I p-pour…
Is thish… hic… nummer three or four?

Pleazh poke me iff I shtart to snore.

by Edmund Conti

P zero one one three
Five eight zero nine.
My advice: you better flee,
Get Putin on the line.

by Steven Kent

“Georgia sheriff pleads guilty to groping TV judge”
—The Guardian

A miscommunication, judge, between us—
I merely meant to serve her my subpoenas!
Now Sheriff Coody finally understands
He can’t just take the law in his own hands.

by Alex Steelsmith

“The Smithsonian has formed a task force to address the massive collection of human remains held by its museums,
which includes 255 human brains that were removed primarily from dead Black and Indigenous people,
as well as other people of color, without the consent or knowledge of their families.”
—Democracy Now

Jiggery diggery,
curious scientists
shouldn’t be looting through
human remains.

Now the Smithsonian’s
anthropological
holdings are making us
question its brains.

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“…is going to university still worth it?”
—Sky News

I studied English Lit. at Glasgow U.:
A waste of time in terms of a vocation,
But every time I fail an interview
I’m lauded for my written application.

by Marshall Begel

“Woman learns she’s half a credit shy of graduating high school,
16 years after receiving diploma”
—WSAZ

You somehow find the muscles of your eyes,
And pry your lids apart to realize

That sound was not a scream, but your alarm.
There’s no tattoo of Trump around your arm.

You are not being ruthlessly pursued
By hungry bears while hiding in the nude.

But dread about your high school English grade
Turns out to be the nightmare that won’t fade.

by Steven Kent

“Supreme Court justice Thomas took 38 undisclosed vacations from rich friends”
—The Guardian

(To the tune of Cole Porter’s “Love for Sale“)

When the only folks I find about
Are rich men with their wallets out,
That’s when my bags I pack;
I don’t look back.
And I say nothing, heaven knows,
About these trips I don’t disclose—
The secret’s safe with me,
As all can see.

Law for sale,
Every kind of case law for sale:
Law to give the donor class
Stuff the House won’t even pass.
Law for sale.

Who will pay?
Who’s my benefactor today?
If you have a pending tort,
Buy a buddy on the Court.
Law for sale.

Let the likes of Harlan Crow underwrite my jaunts;
We’re compadres, don’t you know—he gets what he wants,
For we share so many cares,
Me and all these billionaires.
New law, old law,
I do what I’m told. Law

for sale.
Enterprising me! Law for sale.
Own a private jet or yacht?
Come and show me what you’ve got.
Law for sale.

by Chris O’Carroll

“Bank of Ireland has issued an apology following a recent technical glitch that permitted
certain customers to withdraw funds exceeding their account balances”
—The Economic Times

Execs say they’re sorry, but we’re saying thanks
For letting the leprechauns manage the banks.

by Bryan Hendrix

“Trump: Report on Monday Will Result in ‘Complete Exoneration’ in Georgia”
–The Hill

(Apologies to Howard Johnson and Theodore Morse (“M-O-T-H-E-R”))

E is for ELECTION that was STOLEN!
X is for X-PREZ but NOT FOR LONG!
O is for OH, LOOK HOW HIGH I’M POLLIN’!
N is for the NOTHING I DID WRONG!
E is for my EVIDENCE, EXTENSIVE!
R’s for I’ll REVEAL it RIGHT AWAY!
A is for ATTORNEYS are EXPENSIVE!
T is for THANK GOD I never pay!
E’s for EVIDENCE is OVERRATED!
D is for DELAY’s the best DEFENSE!
WHAT’S THAT SPELL? It spells EXONERATED!
(But if I’m not, I’ll blame it all on PENCE!)

by Steven Urquhart Bell

“World famous Soho club where people pay £3,000 to see saucy acts has its licence extended”
—MyLondon

The news will raise morale among the artists,
Who faced the threat of closure for a spell,
And maybe raise some eyebrows in the district,
And maybe raise some other things as well.

by Alex Steelsmith

“Michigan woman finds live frog in package of spinach… ‘Just thank god I didn’t eat the frog,’ she said.”
—UPI

Ribbety riddledy,
swallowed amphibia
likely won’t kill you, but
still aren’t a joke;

never mind people who
unsympathetically
say with a smirk that they
hope you don’t croak.