This is the seventh consecutive month Zumwalt has been published in this esteemed online journal. Please visit.
This poem is based on this recent news event: “The commonwealth of Pennsylvania is suing Character AI to stop the artificial intelligence platform’s chatbots from representing themselves as licensed medical professionals and providing medical advice.” CBS News
Our President, the best ever, holds a hand of infinite possibilities, smiling over six Uno wild cards long after I have gone to sleep.
Our leader, shirtless, in the reflecting pool on a gold inflatable throne with his buddies, but he looks the best: youthful, trim, with a charming smile. He knows how to use AI to glorify! Such a cool communicator!
Maybe he can post an AI photo of a reopened Strait of Hormuz— that should scare the Revolutionary Guard.
Ramesses built a palace with four stone Ramesses, towering sixty-five feet facing the Nile.
Nero built a rotating dining room and a lake where a city used to be.
Kim Jong-il erected himself in each and every airport lobby, every schoolroom wall: watching, always watching, magnificent, thin.
And now we are finally catching up: The 250-foot Donald J. Trump Triumphal Arch, The Donald J. Trump Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Trump-class battleships, Trump Visas for the wealthy, Trump Coins, Trump Bills, Trump Passports, The Trump Presidential Library, which will be the greatest library anyone has ever seen.
The reflecting pool will be American flag blue, industrial grade. Not granite. Not ugly grey. True Blue!
He posts a picture of his own face beside Mount Rushmore, so even Hakeem Jeffries could understand.
Germany says the Americans have no strategy. But our President holds all the cards. The pool will be blue. He removes troops from Germany teaching Europe, Africa who is really the boss.
Brent crude is $129 a barrel. Just like the stock market, it keeps going up! JD Vance is shirtless. Marco Rubio is shirtless, grinning. They are all in the water. The greatest deal ever. So much better than the worst deal ever— the Obama deal he walked away from with its costly inspectors and wheelbarrows of money carted in.
Some moan and bitch, like my neighbor John, complaining about the price of gas. I wrote a letter to the FCC to kindly ask them to take care of John after they shut up Jimmy Kimmel.
My leader posts himself holding a gun, dominates Mount Rushmore, sits in his gold inflatable chair while the others, all shirtless, all grinning, know best how to tread water.
The pool is six feet deep at the center. The pool will be American flag blue. The administration is in the water. Not underwater. Not sunk. But if they do sink, I’ll gladly follow down deep, deep, and deeper, proudly breathless blue, with water in my ears, mouth and lungs.
Please note that Zumwalt has indicated that the comment at the bottom of the poem was the editor’s wish to clarify that “algos” not only was short for algorithms but also Greek for “pain” so the reader could better understand the poem’s message.
Well, as this site’s administrator, it looks like I didn’t do my job very well. A Zumwalt poem was published back in January of this year and I missed it entirely. Below is the URL embedded in the title. Please visit the site.
Here is the original text for Deepwater Portfolio before Zumwalt edited it for publication in New Verse News. Zumwalt indicated that he prefers this original version.
Benthic Portfolio
The bathymetric map is neatly partitioned into optimized lease zones; seismic airguns fracture the water column with monetized concussions.
Audit sediment for trapped hydrocarbons; seamlessly filter out the pathetic, low-frequency protests of a dwindling pod: fifty surviving Rice’s whales, biological oddities, drowning in our modern energy paradigm.
Stupidly stubborn, incredibly spoiled, they insist on quiet currents and fatty silver-rag driftfish delicacies, never exerting effort to adapt to the tides of quarterly dividends.
Let the regulatory committees squawk about their grievances: the diamond-tipped drill bit demands results.
Flood pelagic corridors with commercial logistics: it’s an obvious course of action.
Trade the flawed architecture of God’s creations for the unquestionable superiority of the combustion engine, the freedom to wage war against any nation, and the right to consume without restraint.
Reporter: “Why are you the only person saying this?” Trump: “Because I just don’t know enough about it.”
Executive Privilege
While some say the president ain’t quite fit, And others are worried or don’t care one bit, We all must take note when he dares to admit: “Because, I just don’t know enough about it.” Proving he’s knee-deep in his own brand of s**t.
Russian leaders in a call with President Donald Trump on Monday denied allegations that they are sharing intelligence with Iran during the war, U.S. Special Envoy Steve Witkoff said.
“So, you know, we can take them at their word,” Witkoff told CNBC’s “Money Movers” during an interview on Tuesday. “Let’s hope that they’re not sharing.”
Honestly, Believe Me
There is nothing quite as stupidly absurd As any leader taking despots at their word.
They chose the best one to publish, I think. Here is the original submission:
Two Limericks to Help Forget the War
There once was a gal called Noem Who booted folks out of their home— With her dumb ads misplay, Swore Trump gave the okay— Now she’s the butt of my limerick poem.
* * *
With a face like a serial killer, He belongs in a cheap horror thriller; Some call him a bum Or the worst of the scum, But to me he’s just Stephen Miller.
— zumwalt (03/2026)
This brings Zumwalt’s streak at New Verse News to five consecutive months. Per Gemini AI (which is even less trustworthy than your average politician) this is a record.
Oh, yes, we have a third limerick in the photo above! (Not by Zumwalt.)