Latest Additions

The most recently added poems—not necessarily the most recently written. This page is the only one to list the poem’s date of addition, as well as its date of completion. The poems here are the same ones that appear in the RSS feed.

When calculations give me trouble
Ramanujan comes to me
To offer a solution, pi is 3.

In my hour of consternation,
Lost in marginalia,
Fermat shows me his proof that pi is 3.

Pi is 3, pi is 3,
Pi is 3, pi is 3,
Pythagoras agrees that pi is 3.
finished April 2026, added
Welcome to America, where the cheese is macaronian,
The policy draconian and the science pre-Baconian
When not outright baloneyan.
That's what life is like when you are ruled by a felonian.
Now solve the Hamiltonian.
finished April 2026, added
Banish the illusions and what do you see?

A. Economic lunacy--
B. Political insolvency--
C. Endless mediocrity--
D. The fruit of meritocracy--
E. And an endless pundit spelling bee.
finished November 2025, added
The memes are too much with us. Late and soon,
Scrolling and scrolling, we lay waste the hours.
Little we see on YouTube that is ours.
We have given our arts away for a cartoon.
finished November 2025, added
Everyone who matters (and that means me and you)
Gapes where Trump is dancing the electric bugaboo,
On a stage where no one matters, not even you and me,
Except himself and, now and then, a loyal appointee.
finished May 2025, added
Early on a morning cheery, as I mused on quantum theory,
Reading many strange, mysterious papers over petit-fours—
As I jotted hopeful scrawlings, suddenly I heard a squalling.
“Half a cat is caterwauling in the box there on the floor,
Just a half-existent feline screeching like a pterosaur.
I should open it before....”
finished July 2025, added
In the nation that forgot
Nothing works that worked before;
Policy is scattershot;
No one is from Ecuador;

Donald lying through and through
Has no fault, though woe betide,
And the bridegroom—strange but true—
Never turns into a bride.
finished April 2025, added
If the world should fall out of your brain
And onto your shirt
Well it might not hurt
But then it’s made of dirt
You better rinse it off so it doesn’t stain.
finished April 2025, added
love to read them humans
humans what I love to read
cite they little archives
nibble on they tiny feeds
finished November 2024, added
I looked for a sloe-eyed woman
And found, not eyes of jet,
But eyes of propellers turning
In flight from alleged learning,
As sloe as she can get,
As if she were returning
From being a suffragette.
finished September 2024, added