Mystery Monday: Purloined Persuasion, Part III

"What's up, sis," asked her brother, once the crowd
Had settled down. "Oh, nothing much. It's just..."
She told him what had happened. "I'm too proud
To think I have a brother who would bust
My chances..." "But you know I had a crush
On Lance last year." "The thought occurred, so yes."
"We never... That is, once... There was this brush..."
"He got my hair! Oh, man, I'd never guess
He'd fake my DNA to get my files!"
"You should be flattered. Me, I got my heart--"
"Shut up, Jake. Or I'll tell your boyfriend, Miles,
You cheated on him." "Scheming little fart!"
But she'd hung up, and opened up her cache
To build a decoy file she'd fill with trash.

Satire Sunday: A Modern Caucus Race

To be the first gave power, it was thought,
Did elevate a state's folk, or their votes
At least. And so each year, officials fought
To change their dates. As we consult our notes
We see that first the Granites lurched ahead
By weeks. The Hawkeyes did respond in kind
At first, but when a pause let clearer heads
Think carefully, the whole state changed its mind.
Let someone else endure Quadrennial Plague!
Then zoom! Equality did jump the queue...
Long story short, no sooner has been laid
The old year to its rest, yes, sad but true,
We gulp champagne, sing Auld Lang Syne, and then
Our Primaries start up, all o'er again.

Sci Fi Saturday: An Epitaph

"This child within my womb, when she is grown
Will know experiences quite beyond
Our species up 'til now. We've made our own
Into a race of spacefarers! We've spawned
At last a generation who'll survive
Outside an atmosphere, who do not need
To fight the tug of gravity to thrive.
Hail xenogenesis! I do not heed
Those warnings that the species gap we've made
Will hinder understanding; we must teach
These beings that they're us, is all. I've stayed
Too long, now; she is coming!" - this last speech
Is charmingly naive. Our parent race
Did not survive our birth. This we must face.

Fantasy Friday: Not in Wonderland, Part XIII

'Twas dark when Alice woke in fear and pain.
The rabbit-skunk might think this was a den
Of comfort, but a human, in the main,
Would find it cramped. She stretched a bit and then
Sought out what had disturbed her. Phwah! Her host
Was back, and dragged along some rotting meat
To feast on. "Sorry, they're all out of roast,"
It quipped. She shook her head, got to her feet
And made to leave. "Don't go that way! The west
Is empty, save for monsters." "But the sun
Is rising there. It's east!" "You're poorly dressed
For northward journeys." "Are you making fun?"
"Down south," it said, and gestured to the east
You're likely to be eaten by the Beast."

Fantasy Friday: Not in Wonderland, Part XIII

'Twas dark when Alice woke in fear and pain.
The rabbit-skunk might think this was a den
Of comfort, but a human, in the main,
Would find it cramped. She stretched a bit and then
Sought out what had disturbed her. Phwah! Her host
Was back, and dragged along some rotting meat
To feast on. "Sorry, they're all out of roast,"
It quipped. She shook her head, got to her feet
And made to leave. "Don't go that way! The west
Is empty, save for monsters." "But the sun
Is rising there. It's east!" "You're poorly dressed
For northward journeys." "Are you making fun?"
"Down south," it said, and gestured to the east
You're likely to be eaten by the Beast."

Throwback Thursday: The Best Booty

He'd been a duke, but had been left for dead
Upon the battlefield, where all had failed
To save the land from raiders. Now his red
And battered body is all ours -- not jailed,
But put to work, a carl in northern fields
Of stony earth, so cold and wind-swept. Luc,
His hands without a sword, each day, must yield
To hauling on a plow until he pukes
Or passes out. Look now on him. Does fear
Or pity move you? Would it change if you
Knew he'd once sold whole villages of folk
To slavery, like he endures? Too few
Learn how it is to live without the cloak
Of privilege that birthright makes. Don't give
Your tears to him. Enough we let him live.

Weird Wednesday: Not in Wonderland, Part XII

As Alice trudged along, what next she met
She smelled before she saw: A desert skunk?
She held her snakeskin to her face to get
The stench out of her nose as, with a clunk
The creature climbed from its lair, once a truck.
Its body rabbit-like, it still bore stripes
And scent-glands. Alice cursed her rotten luck
But did her very best to be polite,
For night was falling, and she soon would need
Some shelter. "I suppose you'd like to share
My quarters while I'm out?" "Uh, yes indeed..."
"I'm back at dawn. Begone by then, and spare
Attempts to say it's nice. You're 'bout half-dead.
Get in, stretch out, and rest your foolish head.'