POLITICAL THEATER

by Jim Kelly

Cartoon by Gary. A Huck

When death darkens
the occupied space
of the political theater,

and the curtains,
somber and heavy,
are stitched with memories
of acid speech,

the audience pauses.

Not because the performance
was noble.

Not because every act
deserves applause.

Not because every wound
has healed.

The record remains.

The speeches remain.

The injuries,
the divisions,
the grievances,
remain.

Yet death changes
the lighting.

For a moment,

The spotlight shifts
from ideology
to mortality.

From victory
to loss.

From power
to the frailty
shared by every human being.

There will be time
for historians
to sort through the record.

There will be time
for critics
to weigh the consequences.

There will be time
for citizens
to debate the legacy.

But in the first shadow
cast by death,

when kindness is impossible,

Silence may be
the most humane response.

Not surrender.

Not agreement.

Not absolution.

Only the recognition
that death
has already spoken
the final line.

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.

THE ARCHITECTURE OF DEMOCRACY

by Jim Kelly

To replace a house,
it is ill-advised
to randomly weaken
the foundation.

To tamper with gas lines
while informed only
by ignorance.

To pull wires
without knowing
where they lead
or what they serve.

To rip out windows
and collapse
the hand-designed,
custom wooden frames.

To remove the roof
during rain
before the expensive,
antique floors
are protected.

To pull down walls
without understanding
how weight is distributed—
how each beam,
each brace,
each hidden support
helps hold up
the whole frame
of Democracy.

And some now shout:

“Damn the building codes.”
“Damn the building plans.”

As if survival itself
were an inconvenience.

As if restraint,
inspection,
and measured repair
were enemies
instead of protections.

Forgetting:
a reckless demolition
does not always end
with open sky.

Sometimes
it ends
with collapsed Democracy.

Jim Kelly is a California poet whose work explores democracy, race, and social justice. His poetry has appeared in Litro Magazine, Urban Pen Magazine, and Urban Poems.

AFRICAN, AGAIN

by Jim Kelly

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

President Donald Trump is easing his administration's cap on the number of refugees who can enter the United States, according to a forthcoming White House memo.  Set to be published officially on Wednesday, the directive says the additional 10,000 slots—raising the annual limit from 7,500 to 17,500—are reserved for white South Africans. —PBS, May 26, 2026

Once,
America looked to Africa
and carried away Black bodies
in chains.
Now,
America looks to Africa again—
not with shackles,
but with selective invitations
for White Afrikaners.
History doesn't repeat itself,
yet sometimes
it rhymes
in uncomfortable ways.

Jim Kelly is a Los Angeles-based poet originally from Beaufort, South Carolina. His work explores race, memory, democracy, and the lived experience of ordinary people navigating extraordinary times. Drawing on a lifetime of observation, his poems examine the intersection of history, identity, and public life.