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| The New York Times, July 16, 2026 |
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AI-generated graphic by NightCafé for The New Verse News. |
Today's News . . . Today's Poem
The New Verse News
presents politically progressive poetry on current events and topical issues.
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| The New York Times, July 16, 2026 |
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AI-generated graphic by NightCafé for The New Verse News. |
I first noticed it early in the morning, isolated orange rays of light passing between the trees, the unusual color catching my eye, and so I went looking for the Sun, hidden from sight, and stopped abruptly when I saw it, not far above the horizon, a deep orange disc in the foggy, hazy, cloudy sky. Later, stepping outside for a second time, the light was so strange and eerie it gave me the shivers. I thought a storm was coming, maybe even a tornado, for the feel of the air was foreboding, so I checked all three weather apps on my phone, but none said anything about rain. The unease remained with me as I journeyed from errand to errand, wondering why I had heard nothing, although to be honest I hadn’t gone searching beyond my weather apps, but each time I stepped out of the car I felt that unease and when at last I arrived home and checked my email I saw a subject line, “The sky looks ominous and the air quality is bad. When will it end?” and that was when I learned—perhaps having had my head in the sand for longer than I should have—about the latest wildfires across Canada and Minnesota and the smoke from those fires arriving on our doorstep, so to speak, here in New England, and at last I understood, but all day I’d been feeling the silence of an explanation and only when it was so bad that everyone would notice did some brief and insufficient explanation arrive. I don’t have my head so far into the sand to be fully unaware that as long as we’re not seeing it, we’re not hearing it, we’re not experiencing it, the fact that the world is on fire is greeted with silence, even though it is a deep, dark heaviness that breaks our hearts and weighs us down, no matter what the color of the Sun as it rises above the horizon in the morning.
Katy Z. Allen is a lover of the more-than-human world, poet, retired rabbi of an outdoor congregation, former healthcare chaplain, and co-founder of a Jewish climate organization. Her poetry has been published or is forthcoming in print and online in such places as The New Verse News, Amethyst Review, The Bluebird Word, Cosmic Daffodil, The Soliloquist Journal and Art on the Trails: Number 9. She was awarded Honorable Mention in The Prose Poem’s 2025 Prose Poetry Competition, and her book, A Tree of Life: A Story in Word, Image, and Text was published by Strong Voices Publishing.
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| Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth announced Wednesday that he is rolling out a new screening program for “testosterone deficiency” among troops, calling it necessary to allow them to operate at their “absolute best.” ...In the video, Hegseth simply refers to troops, though it appears he is talking about only testing men in uniform for hormone irregularities. AP, July 16, 2026 |
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| Cartoon by Clay Jones |
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| AI-generated graphic by NightCafé for The New Verse News. |
The Trump administration on Friday moved to open the habitats of imperiled animals to farming, drilling, mining, real estate development and other activities in what environmentalists characterized as the most severe erosion of protections for wildlife in half a century. It did so by recasting a single word, “harm.” For more than 50 years, the federal government has used a broader definition of harm to animals under the Endangered Species Act, a bedrock environmental law. It included any significant “modification or degradation” of habitat that kills or injures animals by impairing their ability to eat, shelter or breed... But on Friday, the Interior Department and the Commerce Department announced a final rule that rescinded this longstanding interpretation. Under the rule, destroying an endangered species’ nest or habitat would no longer be considered illegal. —The New York Times, July 10, 2026
Time passed and the madman continued.
Today it was to say the home, the whole living world –
I am speaking of you, the owl, the butterfly, the desert grouse—
is nothing, is to be taken, cleared, burned, drilled
and that has no consequence,
as the capture and disappearance of mothers and fathers,
that has no consequence,
as the end of relief for the dark-skinned dying,
that has no consequence,
as the meanings of words,
they have no consequence.
To the madman it is all a game,
made up every night, announced every morning,
changed every afternoon,
himself against the world, the only rule
being that he must never lose,
if only he knew how to win, to be satisfied.
And so everything is fed into the flames,
the beautiful world, the work of the best minds,
the lives of the children and the artists
and those who want only to live in peace,
because anything free of him
must be brought to heel, or
when that again,
when that always, fails,
must, he delares, be destroyed.
Pepper Trail is a poet and naturalist based in Ashland, Oregon. His poetry has appeared in Rattle, Atlanta Review, Spillway, Kyoto Journal, Cascadia Review, and other publications, and has been nominated for Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. His collection Cascade-Siskiyou was a finalist for the 2016 Oregon Book Award in Poetry.
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| unreal? reality? |
Dead or alive,
seems it no longer matters.
Perhaps it never did.
And now AI is a perfect fit,
to get the job every time,
no live performance needed now.
And it was always a performance,
live or film or funny cartoon,
always staged,
unreal.
Dead or alive.
Perhaps some of it was once real.
Perhaps once it mattered.
Perhaps it still does,
real or unreal
reality
dead or alive.
Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality and writes hoping to find an audience for her musings. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Peach Velvet, Light Journal, and So It Goes.
by Regina YC Garcia
Nolan Wells' tragic death joins a long list of Black youth whose untimely demises have raised urgent questions about justice and accountability. —MadameNoire, July 10, 2026
This tree smells oddly familiar
as worms peer up
from disturbed ground
This water sighs in sadness
as sealife swims unabated
and dark-bodies sink
This land heaves up old hurts
as mouths protest
“All is well!”
(the lies they tell)
Regina YC Garcia is an award winning poet, language artist, and professor from Greenville, NC. Her published work appears in NCLR, Fiyah Black Speculative Lit, Soflopojo, Amistad, Elevation Review, Charlotte Lit, and others. Her first chapbook The Firetalker's Daughter published by Finishing Line Press was released in March 2023, and her full-length book Whispers from the Multiverse published by Aquarius Press/ Willow Books was released in February 2025.
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| Cartoon by Gary. A Huck |
Jim Kelly is a California poet whose work explores democracy, race, caregiving, and social justice. His poetry has appeared in Litro Magazine, Urban Pen Magazine, Urban Poems, and other literary publications. He is the author of the chapbooks The Quiet Witness: Civic Poems of Power, Memory, and Conscience and Caregiving Through Poetry.
by Laurie Kuntz
As Air Force Maj. Jason Watson ascended the Capitol steps last week wearing his military uniform and armed with one protest sign, he knew the risks and was prepared for the consequences, no matter how severe. —Military Times, July 9, 2026
Under July's brazen sun,
independently standing on Capitol steps
one would expect this uniformed man to be waving a flag
instead of 3 words etched on cardboard --
The truths that weave a country's fabric
stipulate the deeper cut of accusation
and the absence of a moral center.
A country watches a man in medaled attire
being cuffed and led away
surrounded by the silence of the timid
too afraid to speak:
Impeach
Convict
Remove.
Laurie Kuntz is a four-time Pushcart Prize nominee and two-time Best of the Net Nominee. In 2024, she won a Pushcart Prize. Her 8th poetry book Shelter In Place is published by Shanti Arts Press. She holds an MFA in poetry from Vermont College. Her work has been published in Gyroscope Review, Roanoke Review, Third Wednesday, One Art, Sheila Na Gig, SWWIM, and other journals and anthologies. Her themes stem from working with Southeast Asian refugees, living as an expatriate in Japan, the Philippines, Thailand, Brazil, and raising a husband and son.