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.
I am pleased to announce that Zumwalt has had two poems published in Illinois State University’s literary magazine, Euphemism. Please click on the links below visit their site to read each poem:
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.
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.
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.)
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.