a 1930s verse translation — “The streets and all mean nothing to me now…” a poem by Lõrinc Szabó, translated by Joe Váradi Two Girls, Ankles to Knees Four ravishing legs slipped into a car. Two girls. My mind begs to know who they are! The streets and all mean nothing to me now, except to follow, to catch up somehow, to glimpse those visions, those devastating four apparitions, temptresses of wonders…

a verse translation — a poem by Lőrinc Szabó, translation by Joe Váradi My Grandmother Strict, ironfisted churchly widow was my fraternal grandmother. “Scram!” — she sent me off to the corner, eyes lashing me like no other. She of small frame, yet immense stature, All through her years formidable, Her sons, mustachioed regiment, Stood by her indomitable…

a musing on collective nouns in iambic tetrameter — a herd of long-necked vertebrates extend skyward, perchance to graze on lofty branches' verdant treats — a feat they implement with ease zoologists have long proposed they’re ungulates with even toes who incessantly ruminate — chew that which they regurgitate you’ve heard, of course, of flocks of sheep, or schools of…

the Serengeti series — The Zebra The end is near, my time has come, my vision dims, my limbs grow numb, how could I have been so dumb? Me and my whole entourage had the perfect camouflage …! Thought my stripes would give me cover, I was slick, like Donald Glover, predators would not discover me in all that grass…

Value your adversaries, and be willing to confront your allies — Advice abounds online on how to cultivate your workplace emotional intelligence. On how to convert every interview into an offer. On how to read a room and win over an audience. On how to wield modes of communication as a precision ninja weapon. On how to get your colleagues to…

a verse translation of a poem by Ágnes Nemes Nagy — Wooden platform made of birch, at its helm I made my perch. Under the bridge, suddenly, Graceful bird appeared for me. Thought I’d see an iv’ry swan — Was as black as coal, this one. Crimson legs and crimson beak, molten coal, a flaming streak; flaming legs, sharpened oar: blackened tulip to her core…

a song parody of “Levitating” by Dua Lipa — If you wanna talk to me, I have this little quirk, you see A speech impediment of sorts I hate to have to say a word or phrase in its entirety — I much prefer to keep things short Just an FYI, might be TMI, Brevity’s the soul of wit —…