KRISTI NOEM’S MIRROR

by Bonnie Jo Campbell

meme by witchofsouthernlight at Instagram

A federal judge issued a last-minute temporary stay on Monday to block the Trump administration’s attempt to remove temporary legal protections for up to 350,000 Haitian immigrants across the United States. In a brutal 83-page takedown, Judge Ana C. Reyes of the US District Court for DC specifically laid into a December X post from Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem that claimed foreign “killers, leeches, and entitlement junkies” are ruining the vision of the founding fathers… Reyes said that it was therefore “substantially likely” that Noem had moved to end TPS status for Haitians due to “hostility to nonwhite immigrants.” —Mother Jones, February 3, 2026

Ice queens must be manicured, beautiful,
at least from a distance. Hence, Botox 
 
serums, facelifts, veneers, fillers, lashes,
skin resurfacing, Medusa extensions.
 
Athena sprang helmeted from the bully Zeus,
She was divinely fair, they say, the gray-
 
Eyed patron and protector of violent men.
Kristi hatched from an old orange thatch
 
to sit at the right hand of Daddy. A son
might have overthrown Zeus, as prophesied. 
 
Such loyal daughters must envy witches.
Cruella de Ville was her own woman, the Wicked
 
Witch of the West, unmoisturized, answered to no one.
But like a witch, ice eventually melts. 

Bonnie Jo Campbell’s latest novel is The Waters, W.W. Norton, 2024.
 

BLOW WINDS BLOW

by Joy Kreves

 

New Jersey had two Jersey Shore towns report wind gusts of 60 mph on Monday night. More windy weather is expected Tuesday. Canva for NJ.com, December 30, 2025

Kick this era out into the cold

tail between its legs, thrash  

it with your breath ‘till it whimpers

 

Blow   blow    blow

clear out all the hangers-on

clinging to the corners

 

Blast like the pig-hunting wolf

but with strong enough huffs

to tumble brick walls

 

Slide your exhale across cold hearts, 

melt them like the wicked witch,

Ice down, down, drown 

 

Blow, bluster, dust off 

old peace signs, bring back butterflies

reignite a summer of love 

 

Roll sushi, tie tamales, shape samosas,

ribbon takeout containers in rainbow twine

Delight in the fruits of people’s labors

 

Then let us awaken to a calm, 

a steady sun that seeps its warmth

into our naked limbs

Sun Geode Rock, sculpture by Joy Kreves

Joy Kreves is a visual artist and poet living in New Jersey. She detests wind and lives with a big, white fluffy dog who everyone assumes loves snow, but he does not. However, he doesn't mind wind, even in large gusts. Kreves wrote this poem on the recent cold, gusty day.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 2020

by Susan Vespoli





Lines of voters came in throngs, moved swift
in crayon box of skin hues, multi-pack,
to sing and chant, hold hands, cause seismic shift—
a tidal wave to take their country back.

Predictions flopped, the race not close in least,
‘cause Gallup erred, forgot the massive group
who came to speak in global tongue of peace
to rid the world of meanness, fear, and dupe.

When all was tallied, good prevailed. Love won.
Red ball caps flew off heads like birds unchained
and clattered crimson into sky toward sun.
Then buckets fell from clouds: baptismal rain

like water dousing evil witch in Oz.
T***p melted, disappeared, like he never was.


Susan Vespoli writes poems, essays, and dreams about the disappearance of Trump. Her work has been published in spots such as Rattle, Nailed Magazine, MER, and Nasty Women Poets: An Unapologetic Anthology of Subversive Verse.