Three Strikes and You're Out, I Know, But the Third Time's a Charm

It’s hard to write a poem for the news that’s in the headline
When that news is not “the news” until mere hours after deadline.
See, here’s a World Series one—I thought it up and writ it,
But it would’ve been outdated by the time I could submit it:

            From Almost Rags to Almost Riches

                      K.C. almost lost to the A’s;
                      After that, though, they went quite a ways…
                      And were almost World Champions, by gum—
                      If not for that Bumgarner bum.
                                                        S.F.
                                                  — K.C. Mouse

And likewise for Election Day I had an inspiration
To write a verse like this one as the day’s commemoration—
But the time by which I had get it written and to send it,
Would’ve forced me into fudging the most fitting way to end it:

            The Month of the PACyderm

                      Everyone loves to love elephants now:
                      The elephant bull, and the elephant cow,
                      And especially the cute little elephant calf—
                      So elephant-cute that you just have to laugh.

                      They’re the biggest of mammals (well, next to the whale)
                      And more popular now than a truckload of kale.
                      Yes, elephants these days, are loved a whole lot—
                      Although at the ballot box…maybe, maybe not….

                                                                  —Anon A. Elephant

So instead I’ll simply leave you with some little lines I wrote,
Which you may not think amount to much, and seem of little note,
But express a timeless truth that deadlines never can defeat
Not even if the editor should (PLEASE!) turn up the heat:

            N-N-November

                      kNOwing your ire,
                      your VEhement desire
                      for benuMBing our limbs,
                      hope of warmER days dims.

                                    —A-A-A. M-M-Mouse