by Alex Steelsmith
“The Wendelstein 7-X stellarator in Germany has broken the record for plasma duration in a nuclear fusion reactor.
Fusion reactions were sustained at high performance levels for 43 seconds, which is a major breakthrough…
The Wendelstein 7-X stellarator… smashed a record in… well, atom smashing.”
—Popular Mechanics
Energy synergy,
fusion technology
flourished for forty-three
seconds, no less.
Is the experiment
world-transformational?
Clearly, at least, it’s a
smashing success.
by Julia Griffin
For Annette
“The Cotswolds are up in arms… because J D Vance may be spending his summer holiday there.”
—The Telegraph
The Vances’ Cotswold journey
Has sparked some spleen, all told.
They’re surly in North Cerney,
And Stow’s gone off the Wold;
All over Minchinhampton
Their thoughts are dark and harsh;
They’re feeling bruised and tramped on
At Moreton-in-the-Marsh.
How bitterly they glower,
Exuding scorn and chill,
In Nailsworth, Guiting Power,
And Bourton-on-the-Hill!
Though once, no doubt, hot pitch would
Be poised on every ledge
In Shipton-under-Wychwood
And Wotton-under-Edge,
Now Bourton-on-the-Water
Is relatively tame,
And surely neither Slaughter
Will justify its name.
by Steven Kent
“Leftists are determined to date each other, and not settle for liberals…”
—The Guardian
My single sister seeks a mister;
Solo, she’s bereft.
“I want a date, I want a mate—
Are any good men Left?”
by Dan Campion
“Teeth marks suggest ‘terror bird’ was killed by reptile 13 million years ago”
—BBC
My ‘terror bird’ is still alive.
It comes and goes at will
With other childhood fears that thrive
Despite my fund of years.
But in my mind a reptile, too,
As in the ancient swill,
Clamps on and clears the bird from view
Each time it reappears.
by Stephen Gold
“Gardens do not need plants in them, Monty Don, the horticulturist and broadcaster, has claimed.”
—The Times
My garden is a wondrous thing,
I gaze on it for hours,
Though not a bird drops by to sing,
Nor has it any flowers.
Green-fingered friends give sage advice,
But I shall rest content
Within my earthly paradise
Of wall-to-wall cement.
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Your organs have their own age—and it may predict health risks better than your birthday”
—The Independent
My brain’s as keen on exercise as ever;
I think it thinks it’s only twenty-three.
My heart and lungs would rather put their feet up,
And dunk another cookie in their tea.
by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons
“After years of criticism, the Whitehall body that regulates the revolving door between those in public office
and subsequent private earnings is to be scrapped.”
—The Guardian
The rule is clear: a minister whose gig
Has ceased should wait at least three months before
Receiving—from the right-wing press—a big
Emolument for words. Three months or more
Elapsing was no sweat for Boris J:
Month meant a day for Telegraph largesse,
Or just ten mins when Daily Mail could pay.
Narrating tales of others who’d transgress
The three-month rule, a watchdog chair said they
Had been befuddled, even though they too
Ran government (in constant disarray)
Until they left … I’d craft the rule anew:
Let three months be when ministers can get
Ejected if not unbefuddled yet!
—ABC News
by Richard Wakefield
This is the stomping ground of self-styled studs
who shake the ground with thunderous thumps and thuds.
They strut their stuff, for any dino guy knows
an earthquake will impress the lady dinos—
a Jurassic aprhodisiac, a dance
enticing them to dinosaur romance.
But over time the hopeful fellows see
the charm wear off, as inexplicably
their antics leave the girls unagitated.
The disappointed boys go home unmated.
The asteroid that comes to end it all
in fact is just a crashing disco ball.
by Philip Kitcher
“Republicans in Congress shift to backing Ukraine, matching Trump’s reversal”
—New York Times
If you say that it’s needed,
I surely shall agree—
or that it’s superseded,
it’s quite OK with me.
My psyche’s constant feeder
with nourishment and drink:
instruct me please, dear leader,
in what I ought to think.
by Julia Griffin
“French prisoner escapes in fellow inmate’s bag, officials say”
—BBC
Behind the bars this week they brag;
In front, they’re taking flak:
The inmates had it in the bag;
Some guard should get the sack.
by Steven Kent
“‘What should be taught in schools?’: The infamous ‘Scopes monkey trial’ turns 100”
—The Guardian
The fight was never human/ape/whatever,
But cut right to the chase of our democracy:
Are Church and State aligned? Is law the lever
By which the zealots push us toward theocracy?
Our Founders spelled it out with great precision:
Belief (or lack) free-chosen, not draconian,
Yet some now preach a very different vision,
Which sadly looks a lot less Jeffersonian.
by Marshall Begel
“Judge’s ruling means Charlottesville has no zoning laws whatsoever right now”
—Charlottesville Tomorrow
My nuclear reactor runs this Bitcoin math routine.
I advertise my poker games by robocall machine.
My bathtub liquor’s crafted for the most discerning taste.
I’m renting out my yard for storing tanks of toxic waste.
My kids are selling pandas from experimental cloning.
Some dreams are only possible with unrestricted zoning.
by Stephen Gold
“Prime Minister supports girl punished for [wearing] Union Jack dress on diversity day.”
—The Times
Hip, hip hooray!
It’s Diversity Day,
When we celebrate cultures
From far, far away.
Bring your saris, ganduras, kimonos and kwas.
Dress to impress us, kids! Show us pizzazz!
What will you wear?
Choose your costume with care,
To ensure the best possible fit.
Pick a tribe little-known.
No! You can’t pick your own!
It’s unfitting to flag you’re a Brit.
by Harrison Glaze
“Cowbird mothers abandon their eggs in the nests of the other bird species, but the chicks
somehow manage to find their flock and learn what they really are.”
—The New York Times
Though I am large and brown,
My parents were canaries;
Once I outgrew my down
My lot seemed solitary
Till a bird from out of town
Said, “You’re a cowbird, Harry.”
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Is buying with friends the answer to a tough housing market?”
—BBC
As long as everybody pulls their weight,
And no one shirks the cooking or the cleaning,
Or always leaves the front door on the latch,
Or clatters home at 3 a.m. still steaming,
Or borrows things and has to be reminded,
Or snores all night, or doesn’t wash their clothes
As often as they should, “To save the oceans,”
And tells you while they’re looking down their nose,
Or slopes around au naturel, or has
A very noisy love life, or possesses
Some strange ideas regarding hygiene, and
Insists we all have self-ablutive tresses,
Or plays the drums or saxophone or bagpipes,
Or has a thing for quoting Captain Kirk,
Or any of a million pesky foibles,
Then, damn it all, I think it just might work!
