Guidelines



Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com. No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.
Showing posts with label Marcellus Williams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marcellus Williams. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 27, 2026

LETHAL INJECTION PROTOCOL

by Ilene Millman




An easy-to-follow recipe really, the original from 1977. Just three required ingredients,
but be sure to check you have them on hand, in case
that one you thought you had is unavailable since the manufacturer
dislikes the way you're using it.
Be sure to check your equipment: two intravenous cannulas, one a backup,
plus a line leading to an adjacent room,
saline, hypodermic needles, alcohol for sterilizing just in case
someone suddenly says the word “Stay” as happened in the case
of James Autry in 1983.
You may experiment with substituting alternative
ingredients although one is banned in some states since the botched
batch in the case
of John Marion Grant, who convulsed two dozen times and puked
although he did breathe 12 more minutes. Administer in the sequence set here:
first injection to cause unconsciousness followed by the one for paralysis and the last
cardiac arrest.
Watch for these procedural problems: needle applied in the wrong direction, drugs
injected into tissue and not vein, or inability to find a vein as in the case
this week of Tony Carruthers, or the case
two years ago, of Marcellus Williams where 
evidence is strong
that he just might have been
innocent.


Ilene Millman writes about memories, mud, music, modern times, anything her abiding and determined fascination grabs onto. Her first poetry book, Adjust Speed to Weather, was published in 2018, and A Jar of Moths, in March,2024 (Ragged Sky Press). She was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2022 and 2024. A speech/language therapist, she published two therapy games designed to help school-aged children with language development problems.

Monday, September 23, 2024

INNOCENCE ISN’T ENOUGH

by Matthew King


Congresswoman Cori Bush delivered a speech on the House floor urging Missouri Governor Mike Parson to halt the execution of Marcellus Williams (above)… set to die by injection for the 1998 stabbing death of Felicia Gayle… “Taking the life of Marcellus Williams would be an unequivocal statement that when a white woman is killed, a Black man must die. And any Black man will do,” NAACP President Derrick Johnson wrote. —KMOV, September 20, 2024


The innocent have got off far too long.
We’ll make them pay for what they haven’t done.
The stakes are life and death, not right and wrong.
Are you surprised? We’ve said it all along,
this slogan on which we have always run:
the innocent have got off far too long.
A war is on! Which side do you belong
to? If it’s ours, then shun all whom we shun:
the stakes are life and death, not right and wrong.
Or do you see yourself among the throng
that’s gathered there to shout he’s not the one?
Mistakes? It’s life and death, not right and wrong.
The swans will have to sing another song.
They say we’ve gone too far? We’ve just begun.
The innocent have got off far too long.
Above all else the law must show it’s strong
and if you’re stunned we mean to more than stun
the innocent—they’ve got off far too long.
The stakes are life and death, not right and wrong.


Author's note: Marcellus Williams, at the time of writing, is scheduled to be executed by the state of Missouri on Tuesday, September 24, for a crime of which he is now clearly not guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, but of which his actual guilt or innocence may be beside the point under US law. St. Louis prosecutors have been trying to get his conviction overturned. But as a lawyer for the state of Arizona argued before the US Supreme Court in 2021, in a case which may be decisive for Marcellus Williams's, "innocence isn't enough.”



Matthew King used to teach philosophy at York University in Toronto; he now lives in what Al Purdy called "the country north of Belleville,” where he tries to grow things, counts birds, takes pictures of flowers with bugs on them, and walks a rope bridge between the neighbouring mountaintops of philosophy and poetry.