by Philip Kitcher
“In the 110th minute, the second-half substitute latched onto a loose ball with her
outstretched right foot and toe poked it home.”
—The Athletic
Once more it seemed that English hearts were destined to be broken.
Through ninety minutes we had sunk from ecstasy to woe.
But, just as we grew desperate, we saw a clever poke-in:
Praise to our Lionesses—and to Chloe Kelly’s toe.
The English sports experience can verge upon the tragic.
There’s mostly disappointment in our fortune’s ebb and flow.
But, once in every English life, there comes a moment’s magic:
We’ll always have the memory of Chloe Kelly’s toe.
by Julia Griffin
For Mary A.
“Irish Farmers Help Save a Bird whose Calls Used to Herald Summer”
—The New York Times
The corncrake makes a scratchy sound:
It’s not a tuneful hummer;
But Galway-way, and all around,
It used to herald summer.
Who comes across a corncrake’s nest
May wish the bird were dumber;
But up near Mayo, they protest:
It is the sound of summer.
When corncrakes start to croak, you might
Be moved to call a plumber;
But Ireland hears them with delight:
They’re back, and so is summer.
So, though immune to corncrake charms,
Don’t wince or utter “Bummer!”
Just think of all those Irish farms
Where now they know it’s summer.
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Sheep help to keep grass trim at East Yorkshire solar farm”
—BBC News
I wonder: should I get a sheep
To keep my grass in trim?
I’d save on electricity—
It isn’t just a whim.
But then would come the winter, and
My cold and lonely bed.
Perhaps I better get the garden
Concreted instead.
by Eddie Aderne
“French astronomer apologises for ‘planet’ photo that was really . . . chorizo
Klein acknowledged that many users had not understood his joke which he said was simply
aimed at encouraging us ‘to be wary of arguments from people in positions of authority
as well as the spontaneous eloquence of certain images’.”
—The Local: France’s News in English
Excuses sincères! exclaimed le savant Klein;
This planète rouge is made, in fact, of swine;
A saucisson d’Espagne, viewed in cross-section,
Viande terrestre. Accept, please, this correction.
The photo was une blague, to make us weigh
The claims of éloquence that’s spontanée.
I cannot say how désolé I am.
It should have gone to your folders de spam.
by Alex Steelsmith
“[A]n Italian government project is under way to transform (and restore) the Appian Way… Travelers will explore
the theaters of famed gladiator battles… and attractions will be marked on an app… The ministry of cultural
heritage has earmarked 20 million euros to develop the [archaeological sites] for tourism.”
—National Geographic
Merrily, merrily,
Italy’s government
proudly proclaims that you
won’t need a map;
tourists who stroll through the
archaeological
settings will download the
Appian app.
by Julia Griffin
“Sen. Kyrsten Sinema on Thursday night offered critical support for President Joe Biden’s
domestic agenda after party leaders agreed to change new tax proposals at her request…”
—CNN
She will support the bill! Rejoice! Relax!
Gives thanks for Gloria non minima!
She’s also saved the rich from extra tax!
Sing Kyriesten Eleisinema!
by James Tweedie
According to the news I’ve read
Progressives don’t want Joe to run.
It’s not that he seems nearly dead,
But one term’s been enough—he’s done.
Some GOPers think the same
Of Donald, saying, “Please stand down.
We know that you have still got game,
But with your baggage, we’ll all drown!”
Perhaps they’ll both surprise us all
And battle to regain their throne,
Mistaking for their party’s call
The sound of a collective groan.
by Steven Kent
“Springsteen tickets are going for a whopping $4,000…”
—The Guardian
Bruce Springsteen’s image, if you please:
Cold beer, hard work, unleaded gas.
His concert tickets run 4Gs—
Hey Boss, you call that working-class?
by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons
“World’s biggest yacht stranded as Dutch city turns on Jeff Bezos,
upending plan to dismantle iconic [Hef] bridge”
—The Age
Humongous wealth lets Bezos have his way
Except in Rotterdam, where going Dutch
Fragments the heft of anyone who’d pay
The bill in full. If you can spare that much,
You shouldn’t flaunt it, lower than the sea,
Since being only average—good enough—
Unites the Dutch. Here no man’s thought to be
More suited by his wealth to strut his stuff
Or build a lavish triple-masted yacht
Far higher than the Hef’s iconic span
Can fit above, then hustle—since he’s got
A Hefty sum of cash—to let this man
Sail past a part-dismantled Hef … Now Jeff
Has learned his grade for civics—it’s an F!
by Clyde Always
“The metaverse platform Somnium Space plans to let its users’ personas live on.
… Live Forever would instantiate a digital avatar of the user based on vast amounts
of information collected as he or she interacts in Somnium Space”
—Reason
Virtual, Hirtual,
Somnium Metaverse
offers indelible
life in the mesh.
There, you’ll eternally,
nonexistentially,
hope that you someday can
opt to re-flesh.
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Climate change: UK sea level rise speeding up”
—BBC News
Our gulls are not the scenic sort; they’re nothing but a pest.
They swoop on you in summer when the young are in the nest.
A rising sea will baffle them; they never ride the waves.
They make a living robbing bins and snatching takeaways.
You’re woken every morning by the screeching and the clatter.
They’ve never even seen a fish that wasn’t fried in batter.
A flood might inconvenience us; for them it would be grim—
They’re all fat lazy bastards and they’ve never learnt to swim.
by Dan Campion
“NASA Spacecraft Finds Pits on the Moon That Always
Hover Around a Comfortable Temperature”
—SciTechDaily
Not by an islet’s blue lagoon,
The ideal climate’s on the Moon?
Perhaps its Man will grant a loan,
Since, down on Earth, we’ve blown our own.
by Steven Kent
“A 17-minute flight? The super-rich who have ‘absolute disregard for the planet’”
—The Guardian
(To the tune of “Come Fly With Me“)
Come fly with me, come fly, let’s fly away.
I’m rich—my rule: burn exotic fuel,
Let the common people pay.
Come fly with me, come fly, come fly away.
Come fly with me, we’ll float to Hollywood.
In La-La Land there’s an indie band,
And I hear they’re pretty good.
I’ll never fly commercial like I should.
Once I get you up there where the hoi polloi can’t go
It’s my show,
Don’t you know.
Once I get you up there I’ll be taking you cross-town;
We’ll come down
When my Instagram is updated.
Weather-wise, who cares what this might do.
The carbon burn isn’t my concern—
Buddy, screw that CO2!
It’s perfect for a pointless afternoon, I say;
Come fly with me, come fly, let’s fly away.
by Kaitlyn Spees
“A 1,500-pound walrus named Freya has been lounging on boats off the coast of Norway,
often damaging them and causing some to sink.”
—Snopes
Restlessly recklessly
Freya the walrus’s
Naps are a menace, most
Boat owners note.
Standard behavior for
Feral celebrities;
Oh-so-entitled-ly
Rocking the boat.
by Paul Lander
It is so damn hot
I bet Ted Cruz heads to Nome
Instead of Cancún.
