Zumwalt Poems Online

Archive for the ‘short poems’ Category

Out of Schlitz

I am pleased to announce that one of Zumwalt’s poems, “Out of Schlitz,” has been published in Light, the premier online journal for light verse and the oldest and most widely recognized publication in the United States dedicated entirely to witty and humorous poetry. Please visit here: https://lightpoetrymagazine.com/poems-of-the-week/out-of-schlitz/

Text of poem as featured at Light is below.

Poems of the Week

Out of Schlitz

by Zumwalt

“Schlitz Premium, a beer brand that traces its roots to Milwaukee in the 1840s and was once among the largest breweries in the country, is being put ‘on hiatus,’ parent company Pabst Brewing Co. confirmed Friday after Wisconsin Brewing Company announced it would brew the brand’s final batch later this month.”
Fox Business News

With measured trends and spreadsheets came
those analysts who killed a name:
A brew that tastes of bowling shoes
Is poured out as financial news.

Pabst ran the math, it weighed the yield,
And marched the yeast right off the field.
As taste gets dated, margins shrink:
So bid farewell to Granddad’s drink.

But wait ten years, they’ll give us more
In high-gloss cans from every store;
They’ll charge a fortune for the thrill
Of drinking this fermented swill.

— Zumwalt (May 2026)

Published on May 25, 2026

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Never one to walk away from controversy or beer, Zumwalt has also sent us a revised version of a free verse poem on this topic that he penned earlier last week:


When You’re Out of Schlitz

They have officially placed the yeast on hiatus,
a term previously reserved for exhausted child stars
and caught-on-mic morning show hosts.

Now, it is gracefully applied to a twelve-ounce can
that tastes predominantly of 1974 and bowling shoe rentals.

The pivot was, naturally, data-driven:
a team of strategists,
hydrating on premium energy drinks
marketed as performance optimizers,
determined the current legacy yield
could no longer justify an aging brew.

So now the fermentation tanks are quietly drained,
the hops offered a highly competitive severance package.
It isn’t a termination, the press release insists,
just a strategic realignment.

Perhaps in a decade, they will exhume Schlitz
in a slim, matte-finish can
and rebrand it as a premium heritage artifact
for postal codes that treat commercial failure
as a high-end aesthetic.

Until then, we must manage the sudden loss
of this reliably unglamorous liquid as
the last can is flattened against the concrete.

–Zumwalt (May 2026)

With apologies to Emily and the DOJ

With apologies to Emily and the DOJ

Release the files but just in part —
Deception’s Pathway lies
Too raw for Headline’s hungry Spark
The whole would scandalize
As Cards dealt from some hidden Deck
With watching eyes confined
The Truth must flame out gradually
To hide the Guilt entwined —

–zumwalt (2025)

carried away

carried away

i now cannot say that this
is not what i cannot say

i keep quiet
carefully
counting out
the contrast
of continuous quietness.

— Zumwalt  (06/1991)

(True, haiku guru: all through!)

Why can it not last?
You’re like a rhyming haiku:
Too much, much too fast.

— Zumwalt (2011)

EDITORS NOTE: This particular short poem, received from Zumwalt last night via email, seems to have meaning at multiple levels, as one would expect. This quasi-haiku could be about one’s lifespan, the duration of a relationship, possibly the duration of a passionate encounter, or very possibly, due to Zumwalt’s interest in physics, about the relatively short life of a super-massive star, the brief duration of artificial atomic elements (like ununoctium which has a half life of less than a thousandth of a second) or the very brief duration of a subatomic particle (the Xi-sub-b referred to in “science delivers” lasts less than a billionth of a second.)

All that said, it seems the poem has some literal meaning, also. Zumwalt subscribed to an automated feed from a haiku blog. Soon Zumwalt was receiving one low quality haiku after another, each apparently written rather hastily. The final straw, it seems, was when Zumwalt received a rhyming haiku. This poem, along with Zumwalt “un-subscribing” to the automated haiku feed, was the result.

What am I

What am I but a commercial painter
making the same strokes over and over on black velvet nap
always charging the same prices
always settling for less

I know you, too,
paint the same pictures over and over
that’s how I can sell you mine.

— Zumwalt (1991)

nominal thought

nominal thought

Without forms, phones and Facebook,
there’s not much need to have a name when you’re dead.

— Zumwalt (2011)

idioverse

idioverse

jack be nimble
jack be quick
but man, the fates cry like babies in soiled diapers, don’t try to be
jack —
it might stick.

-zumwalt (1990)

anchor’s away!

I want her to throw away the anchor.
She wants me to go overboard with it.

-zumwalt (1991)

the analysis of falling

the analysis of falling

when going down it pays to plan ahead
and calculate the moment of impact if there is going to be one at all.

It is not so good to remember how it started
or to speculate on how to stop.

the best thing to do is enjoy it.
and if you can’t enjoy it, make notes.

-zumwalt (1991)

note

i look at a note I jotted down
a thought
a revelation
an expression of truth

I trace my fingers over the loops and bends
I cannot remember what I wrote
and I cannot read my writing

-zumwwalt (1991)