MS MAXWELL AND THE ART OF THE DEAL

by Raymond Nat Turner

Cartoon by Jean Gouders posted 9 August 2025 on X by Iroon.

For her silence she wants the Ruby

Slippers back—along with her broomstick—

The Lolita Express… Better yet…  she

Wants the jet Qatar gifted grifter Boss Tweet.

She wants all alphabet agencies who

Spy on the American People

Mobilized/weaponized to find out which

Hedge fund flipped a house on her sister.

She wants ICE rounding up a million Munchkins a month

For her pleasure. She wants scores of other peoples’ babies.

She wants impunity to work Quinceañeras, Bat Mitzvahs,

Sweet Sixteens with former father figure, Jel-Low Puddin Man.

She wants a new psyop to co-opt left language.

She wants to use “What’s the call? Free ‘em all!”

To Free Harvey! Free Diddy! Free R. Kelly! And

Allow Russell Simmons to sing, “I believe I can fly!”

She wants Slick Willy notified that honeypots and

Sandwiches will return shortly. She wants Cuomo

To know he can come and go. She wants Papa Cop

To know that he can fly—free—to Turkey.

She wants baby oil tariffs removed. She wants

Diddy as mixologist aboard the Love Boat her

Father fell from and drowned in waters off the

Canary Islands.

She wants use of some 800 plus bases run by

Greasy-thumbed generals. Preferably, those

Named for confederate traitors. She wants to erect a new

Headquarters. A station. A secure location for predation.

She wants to “steal” reich-cult blondes for weekly workouts.

Smoothie-fueled saunas, steam baths and mani-pedis in secure

White supremacist, settler-colonial, tropical paradises. Built on

Profaned bones of indigenous ancestors.

Finally, if she’s found “unresponsive.” Entangled in sheets. Tumbled from

10th floor window. Or, reciting autopsy, a coroner crows, “A little poison!”

Bury her atop her triple-agent Pop. In Jerusalem’s Mount of Olives Cemetery.

With international intelligence community elite turnout—With 21 gun salute...

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.

REAL SUPERMAN

(and "nevah" means “not ever”)

by Regina YC Garcia

Superman would nevah….

pledge allegiance to Lex Luthor

beat down the Tamale Lady

snatch a child from a loving mother

snatch a  loving mother from the grasp of  a terrified child

cage them  strip them  from each other 

pull them from the light of hope 

Superman would nevah….

dump Mr. Terrific from his chair

keep him from accessing his reasonable accommodations

cancel his yearly checkup 

lie about his color… his culture… his merit 

leave him hungry… emaciated… prey for predators 

Superman would nevah….

set fire to non-perishable food

soak the ashes in a blood-soaked ground

willingly hand his red cloak to the enemy that they might cover the eyes of the innocents 

     and steal  their liberty

Superman would nevah….

forget the “Golden Rule”

shut down opportunities 

enlist the fools to join a league of injustice

     that they might  overtake the land

Superman would save the alligators 

from the monsters that built shoddy cages and dangled distraught meat from unclean hands 

Superman would nevah….

forget where he came from

forget who helped him and loved him

     all along the way 

forget that we all have a part to play

     a part that bends towards justice

     redefines the American way

     a way that ushers in a prosperity

     that ensures we all stay free 

     and more 

          and even more 

(unnecessary too tall buildings and death waters be damned)

Regina YC Garcia is a national award-winning poet, professor, and language artist from Greenville, NC. She is a twice-nominated Puscart nominee, and her work has been widely published in a variety of journals reviews and anthologies, as well as musical compositions and documentaries. She is the author of two collections of poetry—Whispers from the Multiverse (Aquarius Press/Willow Books, February 2025) and The Firetalker’s Daughter (Finishing Line Press, March 2023).

HAMILTON, SHMAMILTON

by Kenneth J. Purscell

We could argue all day long

On where the Founders stood 

Regarding things like Christ and church

And Triune personhood.

And some who do so feel compelled

To stand and testify,

To preach and rescue souls because

They fear the End is nigh.

But when "producing" Broadway shows,

Believers must get real.

You'd think a church should not forget

The Law: "THOU SHALT NOT STEAL!"

Kenneth J. Purscell is a retired retail cashier, adjunct professor, and pastor. He has been published sporadically, but has made submission more of a habit. He lives with his wife Koni in the south suburbs of Chicago. And he apologizes to Lin-Manuel, who probably could have done this better.

THE RACE

by Tricia Knoll

Russian hackers are attempting to steal coronavirus vaccine research, the American, British and Canadian governments said Thursday, accusing the Kremlin of opening a new front in its spy battles with the West amid the worldwide competition to contain the pandemic. —The New York Times, July 16, 2020

never stops, there is no finish line
when combatants push each other out of the way
and hide their secret weapons in pockets
filled with lint

and when one pushes another down,
he robs what is in that pocket and sniffs
at it like a dog with a dead frog
and maybe takes a nibble just to see

but what if the rules called for
holding what you know in your hands
palms out offering to share
for the common good

so everyone crosses the line
at the same time or like the basket
you put your coins in at church
knowing they’re meant to help someone

else in the human race.


Tricia Knoll is a Vermont poet hunkered in the deep woods. Her recent collection How I Learned To Be White received the 2018 Indie Book Award for Motivational Poetry.

WHAT WHITE PEOPLE STEAL: AN (INCOMPLETE) SURVEY

by Sarah Haufrect

Trump administration won’t say who got $511 billion in taxpayer-backed coronavirus loans —The Washington Post, June 11, 2020

Home base
Soundbites
Roman antiquities
Registered handguns
Textbooks about history
Rx drugs from the bathroom cabinet
Extra sample-sized cups of self-serve frozen yogurt
Bitcoin
Borders
Jury selections
Boards of directors
Acceptance letters to elite universities
Higher scores on their kids’ SATs
Streaming television services
National elections
Little packets of Splenda from the coffee kiosk
Years off their ages with fillers and Botox
Intellectual property
Internet porn
Venture capital
Overpriced gourmet popcorn
Foreign passports
Someone else’s taxi
Personal identities
Supreme courts
Nuclear arsenals
Corn subsidies
Workers risking their lives to feed their families
Presidential pardons
Computer algorithms
Jewelry at Nordstrom
Detroit techno
Rap
(Never crack)
Always cocaine
Copyrights
Indigenous land
Basic civil and human rights
Living wages
Immigrant children still locked up in cages
Bars and dance clubs alive with innocent bystanders
Black lives that matter that matter that matter

Sarah Haufrect is a 2020 graduate of the MFA Writing program at Otis College of Art and Design in Los Angeles. Her poems have been featured or are forthcoming in the Berkeley Poetry Review, Medusa's Laugh Press, Lucky Jefferson, and others.

4 70

by Akua Lezli Hope

In a case that has drawn comparisons to “Les Misérables,” the Supreme Court of Cassation [Italy] threw out the conviction of a homeless man from Ukraine, Roman Ostriakov, who was caught trying to take 4.07 euros — about $4.70 — worth of cheese and sausage from a store in Genoa without paying for it. A trial court sentenced him in February 2015 to six months in jail and a fine of €100. NY Times, May 3, 2016

Not since JeanValjean have we understood
so clearly the wages of steal or starve
damned for either for both for most
punished for manifesting the system’s failure
our e-screens endless disgorgement
of unattainable nutrition  satisfaction  satiation
bloats many, maims more with fatty malnutrition
but this isn’t that, it is about lack  lack  lack
of will to see all sated, to even the baseline
start us all level, fed, when there is food right before us,
or stashed and rotting in shipholds still
why many go hungry and this time there will
be no jail for the body’s keening, there will be no
incarceration for hunger, this time there will be no
ravening relentless pursuit by a mad cop
this time someone listened and injustice stopped

Akua Lezli Hope is a creator who uses sound, words, fiber, glass, and metal, to create poems, patterns, stories, music, ornaments, wearables, jewelry, adornments and peace whenever possible. A third generation Caribbean American, New Yorker and firstborn, she has won fellowships from the New York Foundation for the Arts,  Ragdale, Hurston Wright writers, and the National Endowment for The Arts.  She is a Cave Canem fellow. Her manuscript, Them Gone, won Red Paint Hill Publishing’s Editor’s Prize and will be published in 2016.

HALF THE MERCY

by Tony Brown

Pope Francis confessed Thursday that he took the rosary cross of his late confessor from his casket and wears it to this day in a fabric pouch under his cassock. He said he did so telling the late priest, "Give me half your mercy." --ABC News, March 6, 2014

The Pope speaks

of how once he lifted a cross

from a corpse’s fingers,



left roses

in its place, and now

carries that theft
with him always

under his clothes.

Those innocent
severed roses still rot

in the dark of the tomb

where mercy is nowhere to be found
and there’s no redemption

or resurrection

to be had
as a crime is revealed,

no one is shocked, and once again

everything stays the same.


Tony Brown is a poet from Worcester, MA.  He works as a consultant and writer.

HORSE MEAT LESSON

by B.Z. Niditch

Meat industry under scrutiny as horsemeat scandal spreads --CNN, London, February 15, 2013
Image source: Cream Bmp Daily

Ordering for four
at our table
but unfortunately
for our sandwich
there is no label
now smothered
in ketchup
and pickles beside,
one does not want
to be snide or rude
but why does the food
taste funny
when we asked
for our money back,
and what stealth
is involved
for the meat rack.

Here's to your
good health,
no great deal
that buys
what they advertise,
we expected no trick
like-wise, scandal
stealth or treat,
for it's no hearty meal
that makes their wealth
only a steal,
as we learn a lesson
while we eat,
it was not hamburger
but horse meat!


B.Z. Niditch is a poet, playwright, fiction writer and teacher. His work is widely published in journals and magazines throughout the world, including Columbia: A Magazine of Poetry and Art, The Literary Review, Denver Quarterly, Hawaii Review, Le Guepard (France), Kadmos (France), Prism International, Jejune (Czech Republic), Leopold Bloom (Budapest), Antioch Review, and Prairie Schooner.  He lives in Brookline, Massachusetts.