Humor

  Madcapfesto We’ll unlock prison gates and let the inmates saunter out. We’ll tear down wall and rule; we’ll sponsor every lug and lout. We’ll overlook drug smuggling and the trafficking of sex. We’ll hike up workers’ taxes to increase the welfare checks. Equality. Equality. We’re proud to make that...

by Joseph S. Salemi The poetic effusions of some people are so incompetent that they cross the line into unexpected humor, and thereby become valuable. Such is the case with the work of William Topaz McGonagall (1825-1902), whose poetry has been kept in print long since his demise—first, as a...

  Hero of Her Heart On February 9, 2007 Sgt. James J. Regan of the 3rd Battalion 75th U.S. Ranger Regiment was killed on active service in Iraq. Some time after the funeral, Sgt. Regan's fiancee Mary McHugh visited his grave in the Arlington National Cemetery where he was buried...

All poems by Bruce Dale Wise The Prisoners in Manacles by Lu “Reed ABCs” Wei The prisoners in manacles in western China were just on a day out, stated the Chinese ambassador. The picture shows the people kneeling, shaven, wearing blinds. They’re being led to trains by guards—to trains—relaxing binds....

  Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, by Joseph Lange (1783? / 1789?); as viewed by a Philistine Consider Lange’s well-known portrait Of his in-law, a composer: It’s good, we see, but it requires A scrutiny that’s closer. This fellow couldn’t get a job, Or keep one if he got it. Was he...

  Rueing Tattoos When young she was drawn to that skin-art taboo of embellishing flesh with a tattoo or two. Now time’s marching on and gravity’s struck, her sweet chickadee is akin to a duck. And that spry butterfly, as blue as the sky, that graced blissful space at the...

Golden Gloves My father fought in Golden Gloves. Back then The ring was where you slugged your way to hopes. It was no place for fey, aesthetic men— There’s no nuance on canvas, or the ropes. I asked him, Dad, what does it mean to lace Into someone? He smiled,...

  How Monkeys Came to Be adapted from a Palestinian folktale Monkeys and people once were one. For monkeys had from Adam come. As Adam's sons in every way, Those monkeys looked like us today. Yet by mere happenstance was fated That monkeys from us deviated. A woman once in...

  The Gardener at War Throughout our lives we hustle and we slave __To turn our gardens into magic places __Where beauty at its pinnacle erases Our darkest intimations of the grave; But what mundane reward would ever save __Us from the unavoidable disgraces __Of having fought entire non-human races...

  With Sorrow Do I Leave It is with sadness that I write to tell you that I am resigning from The New York Times. ---Bari Weiss, opinion writer, 13 July 2020 With sorrow do I leave The New York Times. To vitiate your journalistic crimes, You brought me here...

Your Smart Device a rondeau Your smart device was strange and new; It learned your voice and habits too; It played the songs you liked to hear; It answered your requests with cheer, And spat out facts without ado. You didn’t know what would ensue: You need it now and...

  Editor’s Note: This poem was originally found in The Pebbles and Shells: A Book of Verses ,1909, edited by Donald Fraser. Another version was published in The Good Humor Book, by Robert Rango, 1944. Edited by Beverly Stock Said little Johnnie to the Owl; “I’ve heard you’re wondrously wise,...

  Good François Villon, petty thief, Carouser, cutpurse, scholar, sot; Young chronicler of gallows-grief, Escapee from the hempen knot; Depicter of the dregs and lees Of drunken students, louts, and sinners; Of beggars, pimps, and hostelries, Of men-at-arms, and roast fish dinners; We need you here and now, Villon, To...

A Case of Ghosts (Full Fathom Five parodied) In cradling case my fiddle lies, Waiting for the owner’s hand. Strings all slack, its music dies. Yet a not-quite-silent band There conspires to haunt my heart— Wonder of the maker’s art. Ghosts rise. From within they knock. Hark! Now I hear...

  Summer in Texas She sashays in on scorching licks of flame that singe the sticky fringes of the day. Her blaze, no brazen breeze can ease or tame; she sizzles as she splashes rays our way. Her sultry haze and scintillating gaze immerse the plains in waves of liquid...

The American Revolution: An Epic Poem Chapter I by Andrew Benson Brown   Chapter II: Thomas Jefferson in Hell On July Fourth of Eighteen Twenty-Six, Old Thomas Jefferson was sent to Hell In his pajamas. At the river Styx He idled, slippers soggy from the swell Of wrathful souls abounding...

  Summer Concerts The katydids and stridulant cicadas Regale us with their aestival sonatas. At night, surrounded by the song of crickets, We listen just as though we'd paid for tickets. first published in The Lyric     In Praise of Delay Already it is June, And shrubs that flower...

Viral Hair Care After four months untrimmed, my coiffure was ovoid, Well in tune with Aquarian couture. I was starting to look just like Christopher Lloyd In the old movie, “Back to the Future.” With “The Virus” at large, being kept safe and sound Led to more than a few...

  1. Poetry or prose? No one knows. 2. Shan’t waffle, 'tis awful. 3. Shan’t coddle, 'tis twaddle. 4. I can't say it faster: it's an utter disaster. 5. By smidgen or headful it's really quite dreadful. 6. Said firstly or lastly, it's slapdash and ghastly. 7. It's florid and...

  I’ll Have My Say… by Susan Jarvis Bryant Don’t spit your ire upon my name. Don’t tell me that my view’s insane--- to sink down on one knee in shame. I won’t claim blame. I won’t claim blame. Don’t raze my city to the ground. Don’t force me not...

  Samson’s Revenge a translation of Judges 15:16 With but an ass’s jawbone Asses I have made of them, The myriads, the masses. I have slaughtered heaps of men: Killed them, I alone, And with a Jawbone, yes, an ass’s!   A Youthful Poet an autobiographical sketch A youthful poet,...

  The Boncompagni Dragon The Boncompagni Dragon, by Bartolomeo Passerotti (1529-92). Pen with brown ink, over black chalk. Tobey Collection of Renaissance Drawings, Metropolitan Museum of Art A gorgon’s head on a swanlike neck, furred with a middle-aged mane, the ears two mismatched scimitars like a hedge about the brain....

  Johann Sebastian Bach Truly loved music, yet Managed to wed twice And father a gang. The kids took their tonics, Eschewed bad harmonics, Bach said Bohemian Life could go hang! Frederick Chopin was Never a well man. His Love for Maria Was only a yearn. George Sand, who helped...

Two Tattoos   Tattoo One: On the Corporate and Politic Bodies Across my town, the shops and offices are short. Its buildings don’t blot out the sun. There’s sky to spare. However, needling, thin, construction cranes consort With straight-edged arms and steel-thread lines to pierce the air. Soon architects’ designs...

  On Antifa, Coming to the Country A well-regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed. ---Amendment II by Reid McGrath I’ll warn you now: We like our guns out here. Our safes...

  Destined for the Mount Rushmore of Radio Triumphal times are on the way, America’s Anchor Man. We Dittoheads will toast the day when all is Right again. You cover what they won’t discuss. Your devotion to truth is supreme. You work so every one of us can live the...

  Georges Danton's Ghost Counsels the Protestors “Yes, America is burning. But that’s how forests grow.” –Maura Healey, Massachusetts Attorney General (June 2, 2020) Georges Danton’s ghost arose from hell And visited the U.S.A. He found a group of protestors And called to them: “One word, I pray— “America is...

If I Owned a Macy's by Nancy Weber If I owned a Macy’s or other such stores… I'd tear down the plywood and unlock the doors. It used to be mine, but things change. Now it’s yours--- Men’s sleepwear to rugs, all the 10.5 floors. Fill backpack and bags. Come...

May 4, 2020 Response is Draconian, As if Napoleon’s Back on the emperor’s throne. Except now with “wanna-bes” Ruining economies, Governing states like his clone. With millions devoid of work, Thousands who’ve gone berserk, Rest trying just to survive, Why do these pretenders Who chose to surrender To hype of...

I recently discarded some unnecessary texts, and among them were two past editions (the 17th and the 20th) of Len Fulton’s Directory of Poetry Publishers. This venerable publication, from Dustbooks in California, has for decades been an indispensable resource for poets seeking to find possible places for their work. It...

  Dear Editor, My odes are grandiose and overblown With pudgy gluts of stodgy adjectives In floods of flabby babble prone to drone, All topped with tired, archaic additives. Forsooth, methinks the proof’s before your eyes, But, twixt these lines exists a masterpiece; A svelte and blithesome, lithe, linguistic prize...

  Domain of Pain A piercing migraine or a throbbing toothache, A splinter underneath a fingernail, An upset stomach caused by too much fruitcake, And waiting for responses in the mail Are typical examples of distress A person is expected to endure Within this agonizing wilderness Until his passage to...

  Mastering Magic Set the questing mind on fire with magic, Learn the ancient lore then follow through. Effortlessness must be automatic, Forcing sorcery will never do. Wizardry well done is wild—electric! Perseverance is your greatest tool. If the bones show through the flesh, it’s tragic. Practice. Practice. Practice. That’s...

  My Last Duchess The Duke of Ferrara recalls his last wife. by Robert Browning That's my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will't please you...

  I. The rats infesting Kathmandu Airport Appear to co-exist in peace with man And have, it seems, since local time began, Been treated each like some great Juggernaut. Their teeming numbers give no pause for thought To thwart the airport staff: it seems they can Induce distinct responses other...

Better Stock Than You after Henry Lawson’s "Prouder Man Than You" by Beverly Stock Your tome of pride be shattered, I’m from better Stock than you. You don’t treat all as equals, And I think your heart’s untrue. Of course you think you're “brilliant,” All the writing that you do,...

The Argument: The Poet, having escaped the HellWard of European and corrupt politicians, emerges into the penultimate HellWard depth where he, with his guide, Dante, meets the Poetasters from America and Britain. These lost souls have denied Apollo and the real meaning and purpose of poetry. They have, thus, have...

  Tennyson thought it better “to have loved and lost, than…” Well, you know the rest. Of course this begs the question most of us can only guess. Is losing ever really good, or is this just poetic? I know when I have lost at love I’ve always felt pathetic....

Deep Regrets Dedicated to the memory of the 118 men of the Russian submarine Kursk, which exploded and sank in the Barents Sea on August 12th 2000. The protocols of men of power; Agendas passed in hiding. Procrastination steals the hour, Now there is none abiding. Unseen, forsaken in the...

  Vermont in April doesn’t seem to know quite how to dress. She thinks she ought to wear bright, flowery things, and yet, she cannot tear herself away from all the clothes that go with winter. Browns and grays become her so, those short, dark days. She knows she must...