It is with great pleasure that I announce Zumwalt’s Algos for the Soul has been published today in Bewildering Stories. Please visit here: https://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue1135/algos_souls.html
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.
Travel Advisory: Sector 4, May 15, 2058
by Zumwalt (Nov. 24, 2025)
Decked out
Your regalia creaks and groans
A panoply of rust and whining joints
Moira’s chess game begins
And already you’ve been rooked
Charge full-tilt at windmills
Or
Settle for an electric fan
Just keep moving
Or God’s heating element
Will fry your soul
And scorch rationality
Maintain that effervescent personality
And disco on the Teflon of life
As the sun browns out
And your Zippo’s flint disintegrates
Grope along the nitred steps
And nestle in your excelsior storage crate
Relax and let the Sony vomit
Search for a bebop sax
(The opiate of the cool)
Kicked back, you realize
You might just slit your
Jugular while shaving tomorrow
Fate won’t have you to kick around anymore.
— Zumwalt (Oct. 1978)
I am pleased to announce that Zumwalt has had two poems published today in two fine journals.
It is an honor to be featured in these two journals. Please follow the links below to view the online presentations of these poems.
Deepwater Portfolio at New Verse News: https://newversenews.blogspot.com/2026/04/deepwater-portfolio.html
Ogun’s Toolboth at Bewildering Stories: https://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue1133/oguns_tollbooth.html
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.
jet
rose colored optimist in your bright and breezy spirits
playing ardent admirations in the joyful penny chorus
holding on endearingly to the steering wheel of our honda
with the wings of love,
with the science of comfort:
skyrocket dreamer who has made this life mean more.
the sincerity sinner is rushed to his dinner and we overlook
a life long since abandoned,
left to the birds of
pretext,
pretentiousness,
and petty prevarication plunder.
we are safe,
thanks to you,
and your large
inheritance from Aunt Ruthie.
— zumwalt (circa 1975-1983?)
SHOW OF FORCE
Black Rain
Night is Morning.
Morning is Night.
Oil showering down.
Smoke invading lungs.
Back Home
Truths are lies.
Lies are truths.
Kurds should attack.
Kurds should step aside.
We must pick the leader
to lead Iran into the future.
Who the hell is he?
I couldn’t care less.
We had to attack before Israel attacked:
this forced Israel’s hand.
We have to dismantle Iran’s nuclear capabilities
that we have already totally obliterated.
A sitcom streams
at uncertain times:
plot twists reveal
a psychopathic killer.
The war is short:
ending in a few days;
this war can last forever:
we have the will and the resources.
We are liberating the people
until there is no one left.
— zumwalt (03/2026)
Two Zumwalt poems, including “What Am I?” published at The Good Men Project as featured content: https://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/over-the-counter/
Proud to announce that Commuter Lit has published Zumwalt’s recent poem, Interstate Nocturne:
Please visit: https://commuterlit.com/2026/02/tuesday-interstate-nocturne/!
I am honored to announce that Zumwalt’s recent poem, “take this,” has been selected by the editors of Ink Sweat and Tears as one of their six nominees for pick of the month.
You can read all six selections here:
https://inksweatandtears.co.uk/january-2026-pick-of-the-month/
After reading, if you wish to vote just click on the Vote Here URL that is shown before the text of the six entries.
Gibbon and Toynbee bump into Spengler at Starbucks
Steel glass shafts
Glint skyward
Glittering silver deceptively erect
Yet reality is whispered
With salient impotence
In sequins, basking
They are ripe for a gaudy technicolor cave-in
To a Muzak score
Rotten props, rotten struts, rotten foundations
Polished pillars once
We’ve lost the varnish
And revel in the grease-spots
And ember-burns
While concealing our leprous nudity
in faded Purple
Thus we pursue Byzantium
At a break-neck stagger into the nitre trough
To be the feast of Seljuk flies
Humming 4-chord progressions
Rotten rags, rotten flesh, rotten sensibilities
No phoenix pyre
The red of flame metamorphosed to rust
And blue-bright iron
Decays to dust
Rubble spawning weeds
And housing ravenous mandible-clapping insects
Living but to shun the day
And suck the husk
Of desiccated brains
—Zumwalt (around 1978?)
