Read our current issue by clicking on the cover below. Read Light‘s poems of the week
What’s the easiest way to read Poems of the Week? In your email inbox, hot off the cyberpress! Just sign up for our free Substack here. by Dan Campion All earnestly detest him, so they haunt by Matt Schatz Met a ghost, and he said, “Boo,” by Julia Griffin after Shelley An old, purblind, spite-addled, Ubu King; by Steven Kent “United Airlines CEO faces rightwing backlash after calling for US wealth tax” Some wrongs the Right does not condemn: by Dan Campion “Earth and Mars May Have Formed in Weirdly Different Ways” If pebbles clumped to make our Earth, There’s nothing “weird” celestially,Poems of the Week
Presidential Poltergeists
The White House halls. “He’s such a d–nd low cuss,”
Breathes Andy hoarsely on each nightly jaunt.
“The only thing he has to fear is us,”
Spry Franklin’s chuckle echoes through the eaves.
“It’s altogether fitting we do this,”
Says Abe, all-seeing how the nation grieves.
Stunned speechless, George can only groan and hiss.
Dead presidents are deadly in their aim.
Ulysses targets Forty-Seven’s bone
Spurs, Richard spits, “I had the prior claim
On crookedness,” and Ronald mocks, “Gold throne!?”
It’s always Halloween for Don. What, sleep?
While Harry’s footsteps prowl the castle keep?
The Spirit of Criticism
As ghosts are mostly wont to do.
He wasn’t trying to scare or irk;
He simply didn’t like my work.
USA in 2026
His spawn, their mates and exes, mouths agape
For any mogul’s droppings; jockeying
Lackeys excusing every sleazy jape;
States’ representatives who fawn and cling
While stretching private loopholes to escape;
Citizens gunned down in the streets and mocked
By government officials; a gagged press;
Violence glorified; compassion blocked;
Justice co-opted; merit powerless;
A cheated people, long past being shocked
By any filth their masters can concoct,
Whose vote, in all their manifold distress,
Remains still somehow anybody’s guess.
Unforgivable
—The Guardian
The inside trade, the toxic spill,
The secret war, the conflict gem,
The parlous dark satanic mill.
But voices reach a fever pitch
At one offense they won’t let pass:
Suggest we ought to tax the rich,
And you’re a traitor to your class.
Wordly Weirdness
—The New York Times
While crashing rocks made Mars,
The difficulty of each birth
Meant nothing to the stars;
It’s we who make a fuss
And view whole worlds obstetrically.
All weirdness lives in us.
(For more witty poems, read our current issue or visit our Poems of the Week archive)

