A Eulogy on Zoom by Jack “Jackie” Stevens II, “CPA” Dearly beloved, I see no one has logged on yet, except me and my father, who hasn’t really longed on, you see, for he is still quite dead. I logged on for him, under his own Zoom account, which I…

(in no particular order; they are equally terrible) The Virtual Zoom-Assisted Farmers Market! Such a terrible idea. The farmers hand out virtual veggies, fruit, and flowers, while an old man plays the banjo. Each time a farmer passes an item across the screen to you, she giggles “tee-hee.” …

If all the world’s a stage, just who are you? The young ingenue, all ribbons and blue Pirouetting downstage stage, ne’re out of view Enchanting scoundrels with nothing to so Are you the author of these loves and dreams? Entangling mortals and sprites with your schemes And explore their yearnings because it seems The spotlights downstage are more like moonbeams For the audience to see, are you with them?

You know they say that opposites attract I know you’re a P ’cause I am a J I came to that conclusion long ago While you were gathering data all day You are not convinced, is that what YOU say? That’s because you are no doubt a T I’m an F, already celebrating You are thinking too much (so unlike me) I’ve got an intuition: you’re upset But you’ve got no clue, ’cause you are an S I am an N, and I’m sure about us

SONNET 86 They’re crazy large, she is such a freak And they are not just brown, but sugary And did I tell you her breath doth reek And I rue the very day she chose me If hair were pasta, it grows from her head Makes sense, because she cannot stop eating At night she brings ancient pizza to bed My stomach turns, it keeps on repeating There are stale chips all over the blanket There are old gummies under my pillow

by Giles Gallows GALLOWS Gentle reader. Tonight we have a special treat: a Q&A with the man called the Bard of Avon, England’s National Poet, the world’s greatest dramatist (according to Wikipedia), none other than William Shakespeare, author of 39 plays, 154 sonnets, creator of two long narrative poems, inventor…

By Quentin Snapp, Head of Membership For The AARP Dear Ladies There’s never been a better time — i.e., today, April 25, 2020 — to sign up your husband for a lifetime membership with the AARP. “Why?,” you ask. Well, you’ve been quarantined with the guy for more than a…

April 23: Three perfect drinks for battling the invisible enemy My fellow Americans (except for the lamestream media) By now you’ve heard the great news that I’ve lined up all the doctors and CEOs to develop a vaccine with a good-old American disinfectant. Of course you have. My daily briefing…

In his last days, the meds were so heavy At hospice, that his children had arranged He had no appetite for anything The TV on low to lull him to sleep Before slipping into his anxious dreams He’d see his fears in three colored spheres Projected vividly on his eyelids But he struggled to keep them all arranged Yellow for the loss to his family Red for regrets, what he’d done to others But the one that would most make him shiver