Alex Steelsmith: May I Stay Said He
(With apologies to E. E. Cummings)
(General He Weidong, China’s No. 2 general,
mysteriously disappeared from all public
appearances, fueling speculation that
General He was the latest casualty in Xi
Jinping’s purge of the military’s top ranks.)
may I stay said He
not ok said Xi
i’m your friend said He
you offend said Xi
i implore said He
i ignore said Xi
i’ve confessed said He
not impressed said Xi
i’ll explain said He
you’re a pain said Xi
i’m your boy said He
you annoy said Xi
i’ll obey said He
go away said Xi
but it’s wrong said He
move along said Xi
i’m sincere said He
disappear said Xi
i’ll be true said He
you are through said Xi
i’m your guy said He
say goodbye said Xi
i’m your dude said He
you are screwed said Xi
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Barbara Loots: This Poem Will Become Famous
Did Robert Frost determine
where the other road would lead
Or what snow-filled soliloquy
posterity would read?
Did Emily imagine
how the buzzing of a fly
Would be her anthologic trope
for immortality?
Did Dante never hope
when his Commedia was done
That Hell might evermore endure
in World Lit 101?
Don't worry, Poet, when the Muse
is stingy with her stuff,
For, as the future will decide,
one poem is enough.
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Marshall Begel: Not Too Late
(After: Love After Love by Derek Walcott)
The time has come. I must address,
through honest introspection,
my selfishness, and give redress
to you, in my reflection.
You've been beside me from the start
and watched with tearful eyes,
how hubris tore my life apart
and burned my friends with lies.
You've always known the better way—
I'm sorry I ignored you.
I promise that I'll start today
to be respectful toward you.
So now that we're both acting nice
and healing has begun,
I sure could use some quick advice
to hide a hit-and-run.
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Felicia Nimue Ackerman: Résumé
“Singapore has dispatched ‘Silver
Generation Ambassadors' to
conduct door-to-door visits with
seniors who live alone to encourage
them to play games like Rummy-O
(and a modified version of water polo)
and learn robotics and other languages."
– The New York Times
(With apologies to DP)
Group games pain me;
Water is damp;
Pressures strain me;
And workouts cause cramp.
I'm enjoying old age;
So your visit's a peeve;
And Zoom is my stage;
You might as well leave.
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Nick Cooke: Footholds
(With apologies to PL)
Most of life is simply
trying to get footholds
and when at last you find one
‘How about a handhold too?’
Upwards and bloody onwards
is all very shagging well but
does it have to be that way?
An eternal bleeding challenge?
Why not a whoosh down a slide
for a mile or two once in a while?
I’d sacrifice the skin off my arse
for a bit more of that
and even a plunge in the abyss
would still be preferable
(albeit with downsides)
to the fingers on rock or a clump of mud
dislodging pebbles that fall
in your mouth as you drag up
the unforgiving mount
till you’re too old to count
the days and months and eons spent
on fighting for every inch
just for something in hand,
just to end in no man’s land.
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Simon MacCulloch: The Cake Aisle Of Sainsbury’s
(With apologies to WBY)
I will arise and go now, and go to Sainsbury’s,
And a small basket fill there, of wire and plastic made:
Bananas will I buy there, and browse the breakfast teas,
And look for the labels that say Fair Trade.
And I shall get there early, for crowds make shopping slow,
Shopping from the aisles of the bakery to where the checkout rings;
There apples are a glimmer, and grapes a purple glow,
And freezers full of chicken wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the discount offers on the tannoy in the store;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep mall’s core.
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L. A. Mereoie: Fatal Encounter
(With apologies to STC and WBY)
It was an ancient mariner
Who went to Innisfree
To tame his tic of telling guests
Tall tales about the sea
But found the clay-built cabin there
Had weird young William in it,
Half-starved on legumes, honeycomb
Or lightly-roasted linnet.
Deafened by bees and lapping waves
And bean-fuelled wind at night,
The tar was also forced to hear
His droning host recite
Such mystic mournful moonshine verse
As made him very ill
And so he drowned himself, that’s why
A ghost now haunts Lough Gill.
