We’re defending Western Civilization by kicking Plato and Shakespeare out of university classes.

Homeland Security Expands Deportation Fleet With High-End Jets

One more time, for the folks in the back: You don’t scale up durable assets like this for a ‘once and done’ effort. ICE are Trump’s unaccountable, half trained, personally loyal Gestapo. We need to shut them down, and soon.

www.nytimes.com/2026/04/17/u...

Schrodinger’s Strait of Hormuz

Creamy Lemon Orzo with Spinach & Snap Peas Think of this one-pot creamy lemon orzo with spinach and snap peas like a quick risotto swapping orzo for rice.

Dinner Tonight: Creamy Lemon Orzo with Spinach and Snap Peas

I’ve been having great lunches this week from leftovers and I’m looking forward to having more of this risotto Pramas made tomorrow.

www.eatingwell.com/recipe/80366...

there is no poem greater than feeding someone there is no poem wiser than kindness there is no poem more important than being good to children there is no poem outside love's violent potential for cruelty there is no poem that ends grief but nurses it towards light there is no poem that isn't jealous of song or murals or wings there is no poem free from money's ruin no poem in the capital nor the court most policy rewords the devil's script there is no poem in the law there is no poem in the west there is no poem in the north poems only live south of something meaning beneath & darkened & hot there is no poem in the winter nor in whiteness nor are there poems in the landlord's name no poem to admonish the state no poem with a key to the locks no poem to free you

anti poetica
Danez Smith
#NationalPoetryMonth

Gunderson In her mean-mouthed kitchen, the crepes flipped perfect. Butter-tender, brown- freckled, thin as pudding skin, custardy, rolled tight with jam glittering garnet, white storming confectioner's sugar, slit with a side-turned fork. l ate while Jerry Taft explained windchill, while she stood at the stove reading readiness with a dull knife, While I paged sales: ALDI, D’Andreas, Suburban Life. When I ate, I didn't smile. That's why she liked me best. JOANNA NOVAK

Gunderson
Joanna Novak
Poetry Magazine, April 2026
#NationalPoetryMonth

i will vote for any candidate who offers up this slogan

A screenshot showing $35,016.09 raised out of $50,0000 for the TTRPGs for Trans Rights Bundle.

It's Sunday night and while many of us gear up for work in the morning remember that your voices and support have raised $35k for trans charities- and we still have 18 days to go!
itch.io/b/3525/ttrpg...

#transrights #trans #ttrpgsfortransrights #ttrpgsfortransrights26

Seriously, though, it came out so good.

I'm going to point out that we spent a shit ton of taxpayer money on moderna and he's stealing it from us.

And whom do I call my enemy? An enemy must be worthy of engagement. I turn in the direction of the sun and keep walking. It’s the heart that asks the question, not my furious mind. The heart is the smaller cousin of the sun. It sees and knows everything. It hears the gnashing even as it hears the blessing. The door to the mind should only open from the heart. An enemy who gets in, risks the danger of becoming a friend.

This Morning I Pray for My Enemies
Joy Harjo
#NationalPoetryMonth

If leaders abuse the rule of law to make themselves immune to it, so that they can undermine the rights of others with impunity, by what moral or philosophical argument are they entitled to its protections, once they lose power? By what grace should they be sorted by law instead of by other means?

The IG algorithm finally showed me some positive content — turns out the chefs of some European embassies have been participating in, what seems to be, a cooking challenge in DC 🧑‍🍳

Norway ⬇️

If I Must Die, Let It Be a Tale
Rafaat Alareer
Killed in Gaza, 6 December 2023
#NationalPoetryMonth

Now would be a great time to reconsider that 46% cut to NASA’s science budget for FY2027.

I’m converted.

INSTRUCTIONS ON NOT GIVING UP Ada Limón More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor's almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate sky of Spring rains, it's the greening of the trees that really gets to me. When all the shock of white and taffy, the world's baubles and trinkets, leave the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath, the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin growing over whatever winter did to us, a return to the strange idea of continuous living despite the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then, I'll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I'll take it all.

Instructions on Not Giving Up
Ada Limón
#NationalPoetryMonth

Ooh, thanks!

HOW CAN BLACK PEOPLE WRITE ABOUT FLOWERS AT A TIME LIKE THIS dear reader, with our heels digging into the good mud at a swamp's edge, you might tell me something about the dandelion head & how it is not a flower itself but a plant made up of many small flowers at its crown & lord knows I have been called by what I look like more than I have been called by what I actually am & I wish to return the favor for the purpose of this exercise. which, too, is an attempt at fashioning something pretty out of seeds refusing to make anything worthwhile of their burial. size me up & skip whatever semantics arrive to the tongue first. say: that boy he look like a hollowed-out grandfather clock. he look like a million-dollar god with a two-cent heaven. like all it takes is one kiss & before morning, you could scatter his whole mind across a field.

How Can Black People Write About Flowers At a Time Like This
Hanif Abdurraqib
#NationalPoetryMonth

I have not! Just the sort of rec I was hoping for. ❤️

Friends, what are the good podcasts right now? Link me up!

Why is it that we hear the loudest yelps for “meritocracy” from the inheritors of inter-generational wealth?

I think it's bad for the President to threaten to annihilate an entire culture and i do not think you are being alarmist if you take his threats seriously and literally.

Kansas Rules J. Yolen Who would have guessed, flat as it is, that Kansas has a sharp spine, acknowledging women can make their own body choices, the Supremes tried to dance on the corpse of freedom, the spikes of their fascist boots leaving marks in the flat soil that will be erased by the prairie winds, trampled into nothing by lines of voters, and turned under in time by America's plowshares.

Kansas Rules
J. Yolen
#NationalPoetryMonth

Donate to Opportunity of a Lifetime - Restarting in Albania, organized by Diane Barker Hi! We are Valentine and Diane. Last year, we decided to leave the Unit… Diane Barker needs your support for Opportunity of a Lifetime - Restarting in Albania

My friends are trying to start a new life in Albania.

If you can help out, please donate, or share widely and let's get them to their goal:
gofund.me/b4b4946ef

Oh, I am disappointed to hear this as the internet previously led me to believe it was possible and I was literally intending to try it today!

Gratitude Do not think I am not grateful for your small kindness to me. I like small kindnesses. In fact I actually prefer them to the more substantial kindness, that is always eying you like a large animal on a rug, until your whole life reduces to nothing but waking up morning after morning cramped, and the bright sun shining on its tusks.

Gratitude
Louise Glück
#NationalPoetryMonth

Body, Mind of the Ransacked Thrift Shop Jane Hirshfield #NationalPoetryMonth Body, mind of the ransacked thrift shop: I here bequeath you. Knees: yellowing articles clipped from the news. Blood: mosquitoes reject it. Closets: time now to empty. Books: go. Like an old dog, I'll find my one exactly-dog-sized pond of sun. I'll sleep, rIl swim. I'll keep with me only one habit too hard to lose: I'll still bark at what passes.

Body, Mind of the Ransacked Thrift Shop
Jane Hirshfield
#NationalPoetryMonth

April I wanted to speak at length about the happiness of my body and the delight of my mind for it was April, night, a full moon and— but something in myself or maybe from somewhere other said: not too many words, please, in the muddy shallows the frogs are singing. Mary Oliver

#NationalPoetryMonth

Pam bondi ignoring Epstein survivors

may this define her for the rest of her life.

she was willing to stoop this low and still got fired.

girl, bye.