19-20

I Gaze into My Glass

with a nod to Thomas Hardy

I gaze into my glass,
And view my perfect skin, 
And say, "No crease will come to pass
Injections can't fill in!"

For no one gets distressed
By mere mortality
Who always gets the very best
Cosmetic surgery.

That Time might make me grieve,
I simply can't abide;
And nothing shakes this frame at eve
That cannot be denied.

by Alex Steelsmith

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A writer and fine artist, Alex Steelsmith has coauthored three nonfiction books and more than 200 articles that have appeared in numerous publications, including USA Today. In addition to Parody, his poems have appeared in Light, Lighten Up Online, and other venues. When not writing parodies and light poetry, he takes himself very seriously.

19-19

Apollinaire Steals the Mona Lisa

based on any number of poems by Apollinaire

On September 7, 1911, French police arrested poet Guillaume Apollinaire for stealing the Mona Lisa.

In that vast lamentable hall
nobility has abandoned,
her ancient suffering smile
innocent of rage
bestows a melancholy radiance
on Americans with museum maps.

A menacing harlequin
lectures on fatal dreams
as the guarded cortege of tourists
without a single vital tear
passes beneath her linen confinement
and time expires wingless.

She has ascended beyond
the violet adoration of crowds,
but I will climb sorrow like a ladder
and steal her perfect glory
to be that fevered mirror
I keep under my bed.

by Chris Bullard

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Chris Bullard lives in Philadelphia, PA. He received his B.A. in English from the University of Pennsylvania and his MFA from Wilkes University. Finishing Line Press published his poetry chapbook, Leviathan, in 2016. Kattywompus Press published High Pulp, a collection of his flash fiction, in 2017. His work has appeared in publications such as 32 Poems, Green Mountains Review, Rattle, Pleiades, River Styx, and Nimrod.

19-18

The Smells

with a nod to Edgar Allan Poe

  Sniff the odors and the smells—
     Galling smells.
What a world of allergies their prevalence foretells.
   Through the thickened air of night,
    How they scatter with delight.
   They can fly, fly, fly
   From the trash chute or the sky,
   From the dope the neighbor's smoking
    To the incense in the halls,
   Whether nicotine or bleach,
   They can bypass any walls.
  But no ventilation gives them an escape.
   They can travel sight unseen
    Through a window or a screen,
   Now a fragrance, now a whiff—
    Is it garbage?  Catch a sniff.
  Did the guy in 7R just buy an ape?
 Now they're painting all the bathrooms,
 Or they're spraying, killing pests,
 Or the tenants in the corner have invited teenage guests.
    And the odor never rests.
 Oh, the smells, smells, smells, smells,
       Smells, smells, smells.
All the pungent biting odors of the smells.

by Shawn Bayern

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Shawn Bayern is a law professor in Florida. He is allergic to many things.