YEARS AGO AT THE TROLL FACTORY(A FLASHBACK)

by Melissa Balmain

CNN video from Oct 26, 2016.

"What to know about the Russian troll factory
listed in Mueller’s indictment" 

—Vox, February 16, 2018

Chug-chug, the googly-eye machine

goes round; a massive table brims

with squat injection-molded limbs

and fluffy topknots (orange, green)

as workers in white coveralls

toil on without a kasha break.

At last: "We've done it, no mistake!"

the comrades whoop. Then silence falls

as they behold their masterpiece—

that gruesome grin! That triple chin!

That overcooked-kolbasa skin!—

and plot its glorious release.

Melissa Balmain is the Editor of Light, a journal of comic verse. Her poetry collection Walking In on People (winner of the Able Muse Book Award), is often assumed by online shoppers to be some kind of porn.

THE DOLTS' NEXT DEBATE

by Ralph La Rosa

Image source: DonkeyHotey

Don’t ask about earth science
Don’t ask about the poor
Don’t ask about one’s conscience
Such thinking is a chore.

Don’t ask about The Street
Don’t ask about the schools
Don’t ask about deceit
Such issues break our rules.

Do ask if we like kittens
Do ask about the wife
Do ask if we like mittens
Such questions about life.

Do ask if we hate taxes
Do ask if we pray daily
Do ask if we love crises
Such issues never foil us because we always behave like totally deranged assholes

—stupidly.

Ralph La Rosa lives in southern California where he daydreams and writes.

A PARLIAMENT OF OWLS

by Edmund Conti

A school of fishytalkers.
A pride of manes.
A host of tax-cutting angles.
A passel of brats.
A pod of spiels.
A Parnassus of asses.
A crash of egos.
A peep of politicians.
A drift of attention.
A tidings of mudpies.
An unkindness of ravers.
A knot of yes-men.
A sounder of whiners.
A clowder of candidates.
A mustering of stories.
A barren of mules.
A murmuration of startling proposals.
A pencil of one-liners.
A set of bushes.
A squat of daubers.
A poverty of ideas.
A neverthriving of number jugglers.
A cluster of gripes.
A blare of trumpets.
A piddle of puppies.
A wince of viewers.


Edmund Conti gets venereal with a pittance of poets.

DOROTHY PARKER OBSERVES THE PLANNED PARENTHOOD DEBACLE

by Edmund Conti 

Image source: XX Factor

“You make too much for a woman, Miss.”
What stale male hell is this?


Edmund Conti is a male poet, when it suits his needs.

THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A CANDIDATE

by Edmund Conti

Image source: DonkeyHotey

I

Among thirteen showy Mountebanks
The only intelligent thing
Was the hair of the Donald.

II

I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three Muslims.

III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
What would Ayn Rand say?

IV

A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and  a blackbird
Are one for the books but not The Book.

V

I do not know which to prefer
The beauty of my  inflections
Or the beauty of my brother’s.
Or Dad whistling
Just after Reagan.

VI

Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass
The shadow of the candidate
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
A Princeton man

VII
.
O thinking men of Ohio,
Why to do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how my resume
Puts to sleep
The women about you?

VIII

I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the Bible is involved
In what I know.

IX

When the candidate flew off the radar
Only Senator McCain
Seemed to notice.

X

At the sight of motorists
Merging  after  a green light,
Even the bawds of gluttony
Would cry out sharply.

XI

She throws stones
From her glass house.
Once, a fear pierced her,
In that she mistook
The shadow of her imagination
For babies.

XII

The tide is turning.
The candidate  must be flying
But not back to Cuba.

XIII

It was evening all afternoon
It was snowing
Even in Louisiana
The candidate sat and waited
OHMMMMMM


Edmund Conti is a retired poet.  He is still looking for his golden parachute.