CALL REVEILLE! HE'S DREAMING OF WAR

by Darrell Petska

 

 

 

 

Peace is boring.
I’ll start a war.
Putin did it.
I can too.
Gaza’s done.
Ukraine soon.
My Department of War needs war,
a big beautiful war with bombs and booms
and bloodied bodies.

Peace is for wusses.
I’m mighty, so—
eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
shall I make war with
Mexico? Bad hombres.
Canada? Really nasty.
Minneapolis? Joking, just a warm-up.
Who said Iran?
(Thank you, Netanyahu)
I declare war on Iran!
Strike up the band!
Commence the killing!
Name it after me.

Epstein? Who’s that? Old news. I’m innocent.
Just think about war. So easy to make, I might make more.
Peace is boring unless there’s money in it for me.

(Someone pinch me when this meeting is over.) 

 

 

Darrell Petska is a retired university engineering editor and three-time Pushcart Prize nominee. His poetry appears in 3rd Wednesday Magazine, Chiron Review, Soul Poetry, Prose & Arts Magazine, and widely elsewhere online and in print (conservancies.wordpress.com). Father of five and grandfather of seven, he lives near Madison, Wisconsin, with his wife of more than 50 years. 

THE STRANDED CITY

by Iman Oshani

 

 

Tehran skyline at sunset, with the city's iconic Milad Tower rising in the distance, January 2026 —Iran International

 

The smell of gunpowder

lingers for a lifetime.

And in this land,

the snow migrated last year.

Car washes are shut down,

and cars won't move under the weight of ash.

Houses are drained of commotion.

The bedroom.

A large bed.

Sheets neatly made, but gathering dust.

The desk clock faces the wall.

And on the floor,

lies the only corpse: a fly.

The phone will not ring.

The TV is locked on the news.

And behind the window, there is no view...

except

a dog walking by,

sniffing the holes in the buildings.

Iman Oshani is an Iranian writer and poet based in Tehran. His work explores the surreal intersections of memory, objects, and the geography of crisis.

SUPREME COURT PRESIDENTIAL BACKLASH LIMERICK

by Paul A. Freeman

The New York Times

Said Donald Trump: “Let me be candid,
because the Supreme Court has handed
a ruling down I 
believe is awry, 
SCOTUS is hereby disbanded.”

 
Paul A. Freeman is the author of The Movement, a dystopia-Americana novel set in a future United States. It is available from Amazon as an ebook download and as a paperback. His first book, Rumours of Ophir, a crime novel taught at ‘O’ level in Zimbabwean high schools, was also translated into German. In addition to having two novels, a children’s book and an 18,000-word narrative poem (Robin Hood and Friar Tuck: Zombie Killers!) commercially published, Paul Freeman is the author of numerous published short stories, poems, plays and articles. He works and resides in Mauritania, Africa.

INTERLOCHEN

by Virginia Aronson

 

Years before they were convicted sex offenders, Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell used his wealth to gain access to a prestigious boarding school for young artists in Michigan, using a rental lodge Epstein donated to the school as a base from which to recruit some of their earliest victims, according to Department of Justice records and former campus administrators. —NPR, February 19, 2026

You sit on a bench
licking your ice cream
vanilla, maybe mocha
surrounded by summer
friends 13, 14 you are
such lucky talented girls
at the famous incubator
for budding artists
young friends giggling
singing in the sunshine
when she walks by
with a small cute dog
on a leash

and the bench empties
you're all squealing
you all love Yorkies!
you all bend to pet her
your future before you
like a field of daisies
and romping puppies
your friends drift off
to play piano, dance, paint
and the woman turns
her intense gaze
on you, she wants you
to meet her friend
this man can help you
he gives scholarships
he loves young artists
he is very wealthy
fellow Interlochen grad
school and camp benefactor
and your bright eyes brighten
your dreams coming true

and this man, he pays
for your education
while he takes
everything else
your childhood
your dreams
your sweet future
as he pets you
for years
and keeps you
on his tight leash.

Virginia Aronson is the director of Food and Nutrition Resources Foundation and the author of many published books. New poetry collections include Collateral Damage (Clare Songbirds Publishing), Whiskey Island and Whiskey Straight Women (Cyberwit Press).

RAMADAN KAREEM FROM THE UNITED STATES

by H.G.

Rep. Randy Fine, R-Fla., prompted calls for his resignation from Democrats and a major Islamic civil rights group after suggesting in a social media post that he'd choose dogs over Muslims. —NBC, February 17, 2026

3-4 million Muslims in the United States
begin Ramadan
On February 18th and 19th
while Randy Fine declares,

"If they force us to choose,
the choice between dogs and Muslims
is not a difficult one."

Fasting
Reflecting
Praying
Volunteering
Donating

"If they force us to choose,
the choice between dogs and Muslims
is not a difficult one."

Heads to the floor
in extra Taraweeh prayers
seeking forgiveness, answered prayers
and fostering community.

"If they force us to choose,
the choice between dogs and Muslims
is not a difficult one."

Embracing the hunger
the thirst
the fast—
the great equalizer of humankind.
Feeling the pangs of those who go without
understanding the gratitude
of this feeling being temporary
for the fortunate.

"If they force us to choose,
the choice between dogs and Muslims
is not a difficult one."

Salaam my neighbor,
peace be upon you.

 

 

 

H.G. is an American poet based in New York. She holds an MA in history and is working on her first verse novel. Her previous poetry has appeared in Blue Minaret.

“PENISGATE” AT THE OLYMPICS

by Diane Kendig

 

Illustration from Journal of Astrological Big Data Ecology: Premium source for made up science

The Guardian begins with the obvious question:
“Why inject acid into your penis, and what are the health risks?”

If ever there were a serious misuse of the second person,
here you go. I won’t inject anything into myself, or,

as my sister said, when doctors ordered her to give herself
her own shots, “This is why I went into Speech, and you into Medicine.”

And actually, the athletes aren’t injecting their own, uh, organ,
because they are into Skiing and their doctors into Medicine.

Even for the men among us, though, says my husband, it's unimaginable.
Still ski jumpers go to great lengths and with hyaluronic acid, even further.

That is, they want their crotch at greater lengths for suit measurement—
which happens nine months before the games, so they get like a little

maternity ski suit, a tad larger, getting a slight lift, just 5% more surface,
but this is the Milano Cortino 2026. Competition amounts to centimeters.

The World Anti-Doping Agency is investigating. One urologist says,
the rarest case would be gangrene and loss of the penis.

No athlete has been willing to comment on that.

Diane Kendig  is the author of five poetry collections. Her latest is Woman with a Fan. Her writing has appeared in Cider Press Review, Comstock Review, Valparaiso Review, and other journals. She ran a prison writing workshop in Ohio for 18 years, and now curates the Cuyahoga County Public Library weblog, Read + Write. 

IS IT ABOUT THE SURVIVORS OR ABOUT THE TAO?

by Raymond Nat Turner

“Laws grind the poor and rich men rule the law”

 — Oliver Goldsmith

“What does the Tao have to do with anything? Are you kidding?”

Epstein-class—pedophile protectors—RICCO racketeers agree 

to pee on survivors. Deploy entire capitalist state apparatus coming 

at us: D. C., Cali, Chicago, Pacific, Caribbean, Canada, Greenland!

Depends on nothing, does not change 

operates everywhere, free from danger

Mother- of the universe—We didn’t have

a name for it—but she called it the Tao.

Keeps to the Mother-  fed by the Mother-

source of all being; life and death are the

same—We didn’t have

a name for it—but she called it the Tao.

Multiple meanings include ‘way,’ ‘path,’ ‘road,’

‘doctrine,’ ‘principle.’ Undifferentiated, yet complete.

soundless, formless, existing before heaven and earth—

We didn’t have a name for it—but she called it the Tao.

Kamikaze pilot crashing into committee hearing—burn

book in hand. Firing triggering rounds at survivors’ scars;

bootlicking, brown-nosing, on behalf of apex predators—

We didn’t have a name for it—but she called it the Tao.

 

Talentless student of Theatre of the Absurd, contesting every word—

stonewalling, gaslighting, sowing wild quotes, burn book notes at 

child scapegoats, like secondhand smoke—

We didn’t have a name for it—but she called it the Tao.

Ball-less Roy Cohn. Consigliere believing JD’s Junkyard Dog,

rather than Juris Doctor. Degree granted by corrupt, defunct

university of sole client?—We didn’t have a name for it— 

but she called it the Tao.

What does it take to get a disbarment date in the Sunshine State?

Empire State disbarred J6-inciter, election worker-harasser, Count

Ghouliani. Golden State disbarred loony theorist, J6-agitator and

former Thom-ass Clarence law clerk, Eastman …  And some say 

MAGA means Make Attorneys Go Away—

We didn’t have a name for it—but she called it the Tao.

Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; Black Agenda Report's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC.

CONSTRUCTS

by Mickey J. Corrigan

“God is a construct. Cute girls are real.” —Deepak Chopra in a 2017 email to Jeffrey Epstein

When a man makes them
from fantasy and baby powder
beach sand and blonde hair
all free for the handling
others will leave all
their morals behind
a long trail of wisdom
words that touch the world
like a sprinkling of fairy dust
while nothing beats something
young, innocent, nubile 
like flesh in man's hands.

“Only sinners are invited”
worshipers bend the knee 
to robes, collars, words
of the wise, the spiritual
who anoint and advise
to lead the best lives
while off-screen they take
what they believe they deserve
while you bow and prostrate
to the higher ideal
a cardboard cutout
hiding the breadcrumb path
to your cute kids.

Originally from Boston, Mickey J. Corrigan hides out in the lush ruins of South Florida. Salt Publishing in the UK released Project XX, a satirical novel about a school shooting. Bloodhound Books UK published What I Did For Love, a spoof of the classic Lolita. Poetry has been published in literary journals, chapbooks, and collections.

THE WEEKEND NEWS

by Bonnie Naradzay

 

 

Crouching amid a pile of rubble that used to be his Gaza home, Mahmoud Hammad scoops dirt into a large sieve and shakes it, looking carefully before dumping it out. In recent days, tiny bones have appeared. Mr Hammad believes they belong to the unborn girl his pregnant wife was carrying when an Israeli air strike hit the family's building more than two years ago, killing his wife and their five children. —ABC (Australia) News, February 12, 2026

Israel used weapons in Gaza that made thousands of Palestinians evaporate. Al Jazeera investigation reveals how US-supplied thermal and thermobaric munitions burning at 3,500C have left no trace of nearly 3,000 Palestinians. Al Jazeera, February 10, 2026 

 On February 13, Russian troops attacked a hospital in Sumy where children are being treated. Two strikes were carried out on the medical facility with attack drones at intervals of about half an hour. —Top News in Ukraine, February 13, 2026 

Putin is targeting Ukrainian children now; we must not look away.
With a flour sifter, a father in Gaza searches for his incinerated family
while Putin’s precision drones obliterate schools, hospitals, daycares.
Using shovels, people helped the father locate the rubble of his home.
 
With a flour sifter, a father in Gaza searches for his incinerated family.
Praise be to God, he says, pointing to the pile of bone fragments.
Using shovels, people helped him locate the rubble of his home.
In Gaza, the living are surrounded by the dead.
 
Praise be to God, Hammad says, pointing to a pile of bone fragments.
Israel returned decomposed bodies showing severe mutilation, abuse.
In Gaza, the living are surrounded by the dead.
Israel has restricted the use of bulldozers to excavate the corpses.
 
Israel returned decomposed bodies showing severe mutilation, abuse.
Hammad keeps a photo of his family, smiling, when they were alive.
Israel has restricted the use of bulldozers to excavate the corpses.
Body parts returned in boxes contain only skulls and some bones.
 
Hammad has a photo of his family, smiling, when they were still alive,
while Putin’s precision drones obliterate schools, hospitals, daycares.
Body parts returned in 66 boxes contained only skulls and a few bones,
but Putin is targeting Ukrainian children now; we must not look away.

 

 

Bonnie Naradzay has been leading weekly poetry sessions for homeless people at Street Sense and at Miriam’s Kitchen and also at a retirement community, all in Washington, DC.  While at Harvard University in the late 1960s, she was in Robert Lowell’s class on “The King James Bible as English Literature.” In 2010 she was awarded the University of New Orleans Poetry Prize–-a month’s stay in Northern Italy–-in the South Tyrol castle of Ezra Pound’s daughter Mary. A 2017 graduate of the St John’s College (Annapolis) Graduate Institute, her book of poems Invited to the Feast was published by Slant Books in October 2025; three of the poems were nominated for Pushcart Prizes. 

LET'S ALL SPEAK SPANISH

by Arlene Weiner 

 

 

Let’s walk up and down
in front of ICE headquarters
speaking Spanish, let’s sing
“La Paloma” or “Guantanamera”
to ICE agents, and if
we don’t know Spanish
let’s sing “Frère Jacques”
or “O Tannenbaum”
or the “Marseillaise”
because will they know?
 
I wish I knew “Santa Lucia,”
a Neapolitan song my father,
an immigrant from Poland,
learned in the greenhorn class,
with which he sang me to sleep,
but instead I can sing “Volare”
or learn a song by Bad Bunny.
 
And if we don’t know any songs
in Spanish, Cantonese, Mandarin,
Quechua, Vietnamese, Pashto,
Kreyol, let’s make up a language,
a language nobody understands
or everybody understands
and serenade them,
soothe the savage breasts.

 

 

Arlene Weiner lives in Pittsburgh, where she is active in community poetry groups. She has been a cardiology technician, a Shakespeare scholar, a den mother, and an editor. Ragged Sky Press has published three collections of her poetry, the most recent More (2022). She also writes plays.

ENDANGERMENT

by Pepper Trail

AI-generated graphic by NightCafé for The New Verse News.

The Trump administration on Thursday revoked the basis for federal climate regulations, undermining the Environmental Protection Agency’s ability to protect the environment and public health. —Yale Climate Connections, February 12, 2026

There are always choices

 

There are measles, whooping cough, and polio, or there are vaccinations

            Measles, whooping cough, and polio

 

There is humane law enforcement, or there is brutal intimidation

            Brutal intimidation

 

There is value for public service and competence, or only for blind political loyalty

            Blind political loyalty

 

There is protection of election integrity, or there is manipulation for partisan advantage

            Manipulation for partisan advantage

 

There is respect and cooperation with allies, or there is contempt and extortion

            Contempt and extortion

 

There is the possibility of action on climate change, or there are unconstrained profits for fossil fuel corporations, drought, flooding, glacial melting, sea level rise, ocean acidification, crop failures, deadly heat domes, species extinctions, spread of tropical diseases, coral reef bleaching, extreme wildfire events, ocean current disruptions, and mass human dislocations.

Unconstrained profits for fossil fuel corporations, drought, flooding, glacial melting, sea level rise, ocean acidification, crop failures, deadly heat domes, species extinctions, spread of tropical diseases, coral reef bleaching, extreme wildfire events, ocean current disruptions, and mass human dislocations

 

There are always choices.

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.

THE CANADIAN CURRY PEOPLE

by Ain Khan

I try to explain to my coworker

the concept of a Pakistani auntie—

an older woman in the community 

who knows everyone’s business,

opines on every right & wrong, 

wonders why you’re not married 

& whose sword of judgment 

can cause your extradition from society.

 

Jamil raises a hand to interrupt me.

Jamaicans have aunties too. Really, all cultures do.  

Auntie is not a person—it’s a state of mind,

attained by anyone, at any age.

 

I throw my head back in laughter. Victor settles

across us, sets down his warmed curry, scenting

the lunchroom. All the curry people at work—          

South Asians, Filipinos, Jamaicans & Trinis—

tried his Ghanaian goat curry last Christmas 

& GOATed it unanimously. He nods vehemently 

at Jamil’s definition of an auntie.

 

Around us, TV screens are blaring scenes 

from Minneapolis. Our all-glass building 

backs into the woods. Some days a doe emerges.

Today she steps close to the clear walls 

under the flurrying sky, the sun glinting

in her calm brown eyes, the fawn

brawn of her body soft in a state of repose –

a privilege to exist, knowing she is what she is,

knowing she is not hunted. 

Ain Khan is an emerging Pakistani-Canadian poet and writer based in Ottawa. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Thimble, DarkWinter Lit, Republic of Letters and is forthcoming in CV2.

WE CAN DO VERY LITTLE, BUT I WILL DO THIS

by Annie Stenzel

 

 

 

Starting now, I propose to use GOOD, instead

of good when I talk about a Good thing,

and to say PRETTI rather than pretty, when I am struck

by how pleasing something looks to me.

 

I want this murdered woman, that executed

man, to live on in my speech with their names

alive and visible, notwithstanding their absence from

what should be a Good world, where so much is Pretti.

 

I could do nothing to save them from the horror

of their deaths. Nor can I do anything

for their loved ones, or the people whose lives they graced

every day. Grief won’t allow me to turn back

 

the hands of time, restore someone who was Good

and someone who was Pretti to this frightening world.

 

 

Annie Stenzel (she/her) is a lesbian poet who was born in Illinois, but did not stay put. Her second full-length collection, Don’t misplace the moon, was published in 2024 by Kelsay Books. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in print and online journals in Canada, the U.S., and the U.K., including Action, Spectacle; Gavialidae; Innisfree Poetry Journal; Pine Hills Review; Rust + Moth; Sheila-na-Gig; SoFloPoJo; SWWIM; St, Katherine’s Review; Thimble Lit Mag; and Whale Road Review. A poetry editor for the online journals Right Hand Pointing and West Trestle Review, she lives on unceded Ohlone land within walking distance of the San Francisco Bay.

A VALENTINE FOR MINNEAPOLIS

by Lisa Shulman

 

I love the crunch of your boots in the icy streets,

the rhythmic beat of your mittened hands,

the steam of your breath and the heat of your words 

in this brutal cold and ice-clapped world.

I love the chapped red of your cheeks, your dripping nose

the ice crystals on your eyebrows, your hair,

as you carry signs and bags of food and offer your arm

to that woman on the ground.

I love the street medics with their packs,

the rolling neighborhood patrols,

and the cafes open for free soup and coffee.

I love your cousins in Chicago, Portland, L.A.

I love the way you bang on drums, on cans and dumpsters,

your raucous all-night singing,

your harmonies as you kneel on frozen sidewalks,

your whistles and car horns.

I love your walking school buses,

your inflatable frogs, and knit red hats.

I love the warm and flowing river of your bodies

pouring through your city—

blood pulsing through its veins.

I love your courage that ignites our own,

fire melting ice.

I love your heart.

 

 

Lisa Shulman is a poet, children’s book author, and teacher. Her poetry has appeared in Sheila-na-gig, About Place, Anacapa Review, Inkfish, Kitchen Table Quarterly, New Verse News, and elsewhere. Her new chapbook is Fragile Bones, Fierce Heart. A Pushcart nominee, Lisa teaches poetry with California Poets in the Schools, and workshops for women in recovery.