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.
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.
“The U.S. Commission of Fine Arts, a panel made up of President Donald Trump’s appointees, on Thursday approved his proposal to build a ballroom larger than the White House itself where the East Wing once stood. […] Members of the public were asked to submit written comment by a Wednesday afternoon deadline. Thomas Leubke, the panel’s secretary, said ‘over 99%’ of the more than 2,000 messages it received in the past week from around the country were in opposition to the project.” — Associated Press (https://apnews.com/article/trump-white-house-ballroom-commission-fine-arts-f2a15d0b1c9c95f24816fe60b6b1ee5f)
From the Ground Up
The Greatest Ballroom, Trump proclaimed, shall rise upon the White House lawn— with funds from donors I have tamed— and built before you know I’m gone.
Two thousand wrote from sea to sea, with almost everyone opposed; the Fine Arts panel nixed their plea and voted that the case was closed.
A pity some have come to think that honesty means not a thing, but that’s the depth to which we sink when a joker crowns himself a king.
(Update: To see the poem, please click on here or the link above– you can see the redacted words in the poem this way.)
If you enjoy sampling a wide range of styles of poetry, reading poems that address interesting and relevant topics, or just reading engaging material, I recommend you visit New Verse News and take advantage of their free subscription — scroll down a bit and the subscription option is on the right side of the page. This is one of the most enjoyable contemporary poetry publications online.
These reptiles that thrive in the heat Fall frigid and plop at our feet. From branches they’re dropping, And from rooftops they’re flopping, But at least we’ll have something to eat!
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.
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
This is quite an honor to have three lengthy poems of this level of density and abstraction published on a high-traffic site like The Good Men Project. Please visit if you have a minute.
This is a highly visited online publication per Gemini AI: “The Good Men Project:~2 – 3 Millionmonthly visitors (varies by source, sometimes listed as 1.9M unique visitors)“
FYI -- the formatting for "roads closed" was lost when posted on their site.
UPDATE: Roads closed was removed from their website, requested by me, due to formatting issues. I will post an update when Roads closed is published again.
Here is “The Great Healthcare Plan,” The finest concept known to man. No need to think of how this works Or who this helps and who this hurts.
This policy is the greatest, most wonderful healthcare dream, The biggest savings anyone has ever known or seen. We’ll slash the drugs, making deals with forced consent, By three hundred, four hundred — five hundred percent!
We can’t pay off the middle men, That’s up to you to do, my friend. If you need more to make you well, Then just follow our plan, straight to… well… straight to where I might one day dwell.