Verses from Stories in Today's Washington Post -- Samsung’s Galaxy Fold is finally here. Handle with care. -- A revenge-seeking fitness expert created 369 fake Instagram accounts and staged a kidnapping -- An Iowa hog farmer said his wife fell on a corn rake. A jury ruled he used it to murder her.

I never knew I needed folding phones so desperately.

It seems my life is incomplete without one instantly.

I don't know where I'll get a couple thousand just right now;

guess I'll take a gambling trip way out to old Macao.

And when I hit the jackpot I will get a folding phone,

and give somebody DNA to make my folding clone!

@geoffreyfowler

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If Shakespeare were alive today he'd have a jolly time

cooking up some tragedies about our cyber crime.

Fantastic schemes by villains for revenge would be his plots,

tying up good nobles in great Instagramic knots.

Iago and foul Caliban upon a keyboard black

would work their awful mischief with their evil texting claque.

And Hamlet out on center stage would start his famous bleat

by furrowing his brow and asking: "To delete or not delete . . . "

@britsham  

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A hog farmer, tired of strife,

stuck a corn rake in his wife.

The jury refused 

to think him abused,

and gave him from twenty to life.

@antoniafarzan  @kemettler

"No news is fake news."

The poor in spirit

 Yea, blessed are the poor in spirit who come unto me, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

3 Nephi 12:3

Come unto me is the Savior's refrain

to all who lack spirit and suffer in vain.

Beggars are we, with sore hearts and in rags;

our indigent souls full of meaningless brags. 

But when I embrace his great love as a child,

full blessings will come as my want is exiled!

Verses from Stories in the Washington Post -- Shut Down D.C.: ‘Climate rebels’ shut down intersections across the District -- She left a can of dry shampoo in her car. It blasted a hole through the roof. -- Trump says he is worthy of a Nobel Prize ‘for a lot of things’ — but isn’t treated fairly.

What do climate rebels want,

as their banners they do flaunt?

Cleaner air, no greenhouse gas?

Carbon footprints made of glass?

Are they real or are they fake?

(Me, I think they're part fruitcake.)

With the press they like to ham

(while they cause a traffic jam.)

While their motive may be pure,

hot air warms our globe for sure.

@justinwmmoyer  @rebtanhs  @postmetrogirl 

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Beauty aids are such a curse;

they only make things much more worse.

A homely face like mine defies

all lotions, creams, and compromise.

A can of dry shampoo to me

would really be insanity.

So girl, when you have fixed your car

shun aerosols for caviar!

@lateshiabeachum

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Give him medals, an award;

ANYTHING, so he's not bored!

He wants baubles to collect,

to display and to inspect?

Give him golden loving cup --

just as long as he shuts up.

Find a halo made of tin;

put it on his head to spin.

If he's busy taking bows,

no more chaos can he rouse . . . 

@WPJohnWagner

"Anybody who writes poetry should be arrested."

Verses from Headlines in the New York Times -- The Urgent Search for a Cyber Silver Bullet Against Iran -- Closing My Curtains for Xi Jinping and His Grand Parade -- Tour Operator Thomas Cook Collapses.

The soldiers in their barracks laze

as we approach the Cyber Days

when algorithms fight our wars

with nerds who fill up all our corps.

A virus placed with great aplomb

is better than an atom bomb.

We'll take Tehran without a shot,

cuz no gun can compete with bot.

@SangerNYT  @julianbarnes

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Beijing loves a big parade

cuz it covers their charade

of free people marching to

democratic ballyhoo.

Marching puppets making show.

(Reminds me of Pinocchio.)

Western writers, please don't look;

we're afraid you'll cock a snook!

@HernandezJavier

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A tourist from England did mutter:

"That Thomas Cook sure is a nutter

for stranding me where

the natives just stare

and offer me tea with yak butter."

@mwolgelenter

"Poetry never fed an orphan . . . "

Establishing Peace

. . .  and that which shall be written by the fruit of thy loins, and also that which shall be written by the fruit of the loins of Judah, shall grow together, unto the confounding of false doctrines and laying down of contentions, and establishing peace among the fruit of thy loins, and bringing them to the knowledge of their fathers in the latter days . . . 
2 Nephi 3:12

Peace and understanding in the latter days shall be

strengthened by the words of prophets as a legacy.

Studied and reflected on, the scriptures we have now

unite divided peoples and great insight do allow.

Real history's provided by the hand of Joseph Smith,

who God inspired with the truth and not a bit of myth.

The Bible, too, does chronicle much factual detail;

if heeded it provides a path away from schemes that fail.

Those who scorn the sacred news of ancient history

are merely froth upon the waves of wretched sophistry.

It’s a Fact: Mistakes Are Embarrassing the Publishing Industry. (NYT)

I like to scribble poetry; there isn't any stress

on whether someone wears a gown or just a simple dress.

And since it's free verse and surreal, there isn't any shame

when the typos multiply -- it's all part of my game.

Of course there isn't anyone who in their right mind pays

a single cent for any of my slapdash roundelays.  

Women Poop. Sometimes At Work. Get Over It. (NYT Headline.)

Women have bowels, just like men,

and so all the why and the when

of tummy control

just seems pretty droll --

fit subject for only playpen.

Verses from today's headlines in the Washington Post -- A new Greek leader wants people to obey a public smoking ban — for real, this time -- He went underwater to propose to his girlfriend. He didn’t live to hear her say ‘yes.’ -- Secretive FBI demands for information go far beyond tech companies, new documents reveal.

Greeks are smoking zealots from the cradle to the grave;

rather than democracy it's nicotine they crave.

Like the Big Bad Wolf they're going to huff and puff away

until their lungs are blackened by their own auto de fe. 

Take away their cigarettes and revolution starts;

they possess the strongest of the world's tobacco hearts.

@chicoharlan

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Popping the question, though brave,

may lead to a watery grave.

Much rather would I

remain on land, dry,

and nuptials happily waive.

@thedeannapaul

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The FBI is nosy, just as nosy as can be;

they want to know most ev'rything 'bout you and them and me.

They poke their snoots in this-n-that, like rats upon a quest

to find a rancid morsel or a scab at morbid best.

They flex their flabby muscles just to find out paltry things,

like who has got sciatica or who owns pigs with wings.

Perhaps one day their files so full will fall upon their crowns --

and that will put an end to those inquisitory clowns!

@craigtimberg   @DevlinBarrett

My kindness shall not depart

 For the mountains shall depart and the hills be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.

3 Nephi 22:10

Thy covenant of peace and kindness is a mercy great.

O may I find it always on the pathways that are straight!

Inconstant are the ways of man and changeable the earth;

but thy unbroken promises remain of lavish worth.

Let the mountains crumble and the hills erode away;

thy loving kindness is steadfast forever and a day.

Bernie Sanders Calls for Eliminating Americans’ Medical Debt (NYT)

It started with a band-aid that the hospital applied;

they charged a hundred dollars, and they wouldn't let it slide.

Then they gave me aspirin -- just two tablets, nothing more;

I should have fled in terror but I then got a cold sore.

They dabbed it with an ointment made of gold and platinum;

it cost more than the total of my annual income.

The bills came like an avalanche; they discomposed my nerves.

My body went to pieces, like a tray of dropped hors d'oeuvres.

I lost my job and couldn't pay a solitary dime.

The clinic had me cuffed and stuffed as if it were a crime.

The judge looked sympathetic as he sentenced me to jail.

"You're awful sick" he told me, "so there won't be any bail."

I languish here in prison, ulcerating but resigned

to being doctored in the clink by inmates who are kind.