Professor Lothario

Protected by the ivied walls
He leered at coeds in the halls
And checked out all the students' breasts
While he was proctoring their tests.
Professor with a Ph.D.,
He lured young women easily,
Though if his status were unknown,
No one would choose by looks alone
His flabby frame and creviced face,
His balding head, his fake embrace.
He tricked young women dull and bright,
But gave no more than just one night,
Then learned how hard an icon falls
When jilted girls cut off his balls.

by Diane de Anda

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Diane de Anda is a third generation Latina and retired UCLA professor with expertise in teen pregnancy, STD, and violence prevention. No longer grinding out academic papers, she writes short stories, satires, parodies, children's books, and poetry. She has short stories in Rosebud and Pacific Review, poetry in Light, 7 published children's books, and hopes to make time to learn how to play her collection of 24 drums.


The Girl from Sunken R'lyeh

Andante orribile

Tall and green and pentapodal,
the girl from Sunken R'lyeh goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes—

(in 5/4)
  When she walks, it's like
  Take Five performed by
  Brubeck upon the

Oh, but I watch her so sadly
As she eats the entrails of the others,
Yes, I would give my heart gladly.
And today when she crawls from the sea
She lurches directly to me.

Tall and green and pentapodal,
the girl from Sunken R'lyeh goes walking
I smile at her eyeless face - but she doesn't see.
(She just doesn't see, she never sees me.)

by Robert Dawson

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Robert Dawson is the transparent pseudonym of the mathematician Robert Dawson. His work has appeared in periodicals such as The Resurrectionist, Open Heart Forgery, and the Mathematical Proceedings of the Cambridge Philosophical Society (where they didn't get the limerick about the young girl from Alaska at all). His coolest paper is probably the one in the Journal of Statistical Education that borrows one of Randall Munroe's XKCD cartoons to explain about exploratory data analysis.


My Father's Final Letter

If you can keep your head when all about you
 Are tapping out and damning rotten breaks;
If you can hold your nerve when others doubt you
 And muster guts to double up the stakes;

If you can collar buddies with your sinew
 To back you up when you run out of hay,
Or skin some tourist rabbits to continue
 Roulette or Craps until the break of day;

If you can curse—but also be well-spoken
 To any badge who dumps you out for cheating,
And dusting off and finding nothing's broken,
 Return disguised and give a cordial greeting;

If you can make a heap of all your winnings
 And risk it on a single spin or toss,
And losing, play on credit underpinning,
 And never tell the wife about your loss—

If debt upsets you only for a minute,
 And if you trust in luck's upcoming run,
Then you will live a life that knows no limit!

 P.S. Spare your Dad some cash, my Son?

by Barbara Lydecker Crane

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A former quilt artist, Barbara Lydecker Crane of Somerville, MA created fabric landscapes now in private, public, and museum collections. In 2011 she won the Helen Schaible Sonnet Contest, and in 2012 she published a chapbook of humorous poetry (including several parodies) entitled Zero Gravitas (White Violet Press). As a quiltmaker, her income was pretty paltry. As a poet it's positively puny. Fortunately her husband is gainfully employed.


A Continuation on Nash

Studying the Indian Ganges life,
one day he missed his second wife.
He was informed by a wandering Tamil
that she had been crushed by a rolling camel.
The professor's face grew dimpled and merry.
"You mean," he chuckled, "a dromedary."

by Patrick Cook

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Patrick Cook lives with his wife, Valorie. They are both retired postal workers who live in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which is listed as the 33rd cloudiest city in the United States. This figure is highly suspicious. They believe there is a conspiracy among statisticians to underrate their city, fueled by bribery and corruption on a national scale. They demand an investigation.