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M. Roland Mesnier More Democratic Party members than Republicans ate my desserts: Dems reeked Of greater sweetness than the Reagans' clan— Lest chocolate, though, should all be stopped, I sneaked A mousse to Ron when Nancy left for hours ... Not stinting at receptions, I found six Desserts are what an average guest devours. My tools of trade—a most eclectic mix Encompassing a tire gauge, ice pick and Steel hanger—might be primitive, yet my Nutritional spectaculars were grand ... I'd swap them, though, for plain old apple pie— Empowered as a pastry, I would be Reborn a big, fat doughnut, filled with me. (First published on 12th September, 2022 in Oddball Magazine. Story here) |
Piddling Matter Position Number One's where goalies play In soccer. Here you needn't sweat too much, Defending, if the action's far away, Down by the goal of your opponents. Such Long hours of doing little make you bored. Intent on killing time, you rehydrate, Not noticing how fast your water gourd Gets drained until your urge to urinate Makes this no piddling matter, though it is, And forces you to find a hedge at which To point away from thorns and have a whizz The ref can't see, until opponents snitch, Ejecting you from play—the man in goal Red-carded doing Number One, your role! (First published in Light on 12th September, 2022 as one of the Poems of the Week. Story here) |
King Charles III King Charles the Third was overheard to say "I cannot bear this bloody thing!" His pen Nib had discharged a curt communiqué: God damn it, Charles, your date is wrong again! Charles couldn't read this bulletin. Although He understands his potted plants, when inks Admonish him, he doesn't seem to know Resentment builds if he blabs what he thinks. Lamenting with "Oh, God. I hate this!" would Exacerbate his plight: an inky blob Sprayed over him. Poor Charles did not look good. In vain, he tried to do a wiping job ... Ink had its partner's honour to protect. It warned His Nibs: his nibs deserve respect! (First published on 30th January, 2023 in the Creativity Webzine. Story here) |
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I Think It, So It Is If I'm the POTUS, trust me, I decide: There doesn't have to be a process to Have secret documents declassified If I have thought it's what I want to do. Negotiations with the DOJ Keep dragging on, but what are my misdeeds If I haul White House documents away To Mar-a-Lago? Presidential needs Supplant top-secret status when my take On it is known ... By telepathic waves Imparted through the Trumposphere, I make The Prez the one who never misbehaves ... I think it, so it is, and had to be— So Jan the 6th should not be blamed on me! (First published on 3rd October, 2022 in Oddball Magazine. Story here) |
Why Didn't You Say?
"Why didn't you say au revoir before
"You lovesick feather-brain, you should have flown one of the Poems of the Week. Story here) |
Liz The Terrible Liz Truss is Brits' prime minister du jour. Inquiry's overrated in her book. Zetetic minds were offered Liz's cure— The Trussonomic leap before you look. How Kwasi's top-rate tax cut tanked the pound Escaped her, since she didn't do the sums That would have shown her growth plan was unsound— Except for Liz The Terrible's rich chums. Research on trickle-down had long debunked R. Reagan's fantasy. Though not for Liz. In Economics One-Oh-One, she flunked, Believing if you just say growth, growth is ... Liz did not last: her hare-brained stratagem Exemplified how not to be PM! (First published in the New Verse News on 19th October, 2022. Story here) |