California Contractor

If all these stars
if all these stars
are all the women I’ve ever fucked
then this life is a better life for you
and all the daughters you’ve ever known

for they have gone with me
to dim sum on sunny mornings
heard theories of grasses and wildflowers
while the waves of the ocean
broke two hundred yards behind
our heads

into something that is turning and
turning time and bodies and breath

and the directors in Hollywood are talking
their stale breath before God
and the crumbling plumbing in La Brea.

A Photon’s Pubescence

 

Ten children are missing
in the place between
here
and
now.

They’re left for air and radiation,
our Father’s home is in the sky.

The housing development contains wood panel walls
and alarm clocks,
tables with plates of crackers sitting on top them
and spilled cups of juice.

The housing development expands
and receives
the edge of Space and the daybreak.

Between 500 square miles a cosmic living room
begins to open to the heavens, ballistic missile silos,
and the ionized atmosphere.

There are the children,
in uniforms and now giants in mirrored optical physics.

A character in a cartoon show yells,
“It’s an optical illusion, we’re headed to Dimension 15!”

The character is being shown to you on television
(or in the mirrored optical physics market).

The E.M.F.H. For Male Mentality

No man can survive on peanut butter, bread,
cereal and milk.

“No man is an island.”

No man alone can make a family.

Every man is a worker,
in some crummy sense.

The Commandant of Babyboomer says,
“Every man for himself”.

Our Romanticism

The moons in trident,
werewolves in lingerie,
the New World is coming,
the New World is coming.

The big metal machines,
the plastic little molds,
they’re pumping them out,
the big metal machines,
the plastic little molds.

I asked you to come to a log cabin,
the place in a green Oregon forest,
but this was a vacation in retrospect,
a vacation for Two Thousand Ten.

There under three moons
General Electric® hid forever.
A United States Military hiding-cavern,
pine needles on the forest floor.

You taking them out,
you smashing their heads,
Mossacio’s screaming descendants,
Adam and Eve,
smashing their heads.

On the stones in a pine forest,
the River Clackamas down below.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
antipoémus thumbnail image Antipoémus (poetry book)

Both Brains

They let him go
when he was particle-composed and had died of
cancer,
drifting through outer space
they let him go,
the people’s race of peoples didn’t own him,
floating past nationalism and liberty
as cancer an infinity emulsified
the mortal equation,
the surmountable forms of gray ways,
child without childhood
you picked at these fingers,
the seven wrinkles, your chance to perceive things
but accelerating away,
faster than cycles of sun or moon,
with the forms and “words” of humanness,

standing as a sun-drenched field before a 7-11®,
in light
a parent kisses their child at college,
the smell of wet tallgrass.

They got to go to college,

wave wave . . . wave wave
the forty classes

wave, for the presence of Einstein.
The ports and portals are much different.

General Dinner Prayer (Etude Of Subordinates)

 

O life of this bird,
breaded and deep-fried.
Padded hands of god
laying the skinless muscles down
by auroras of gold and marble.
To seasoning, to spice, to oil.
For the oligarchs who
spend their vacation in God’s house:
the celebrity-chef cuisine.
For the executives who do their will:
the Palm Springs five-star cuisine.

That we may be so fortunate
for them to bring it down to us lesser,
the human beings.
Amen.

A Death On Romanticisms

A father is a hero
much greater than the sum of all
contrived phrases

and father is greater than the
touching things
we make and let go of

making up air or moments

made up revelry

a father ain’t a tree

but a piece of rock
that it takes a preacher to pick up
and call it sacred

without the acts of procranation
by language
a father remains fragile

as he is inside himself,
inside his head

without the hips of a woman a father
remains nothing

or null

flames of acetone, moss on a mountain

we thus make heroism as it is needed

and speak mythically of his actions.

Every father is a hero
(in the context before Time is realized).

Do You Love Me So Much

Do you love me so much
that if I faulted
and tried to murder you
and then
at the last second
I dropped the weapon
and you had it in your hands,

would you spare my life?

A Coy And Playful

My blood stomps harder on the jade wine,
I go to work on assembly lines,
I sing the song “O Capitalism”,
to make it with your daughter
in fashionable penance.

I forged a ring from my blood slime,
stopped what I eat to get the thin shine.
My calcium was low, protein wasn’t right.
Can I dip into your machine,
Master God?

Possess what you can in your real lives.
Eat value meals, or eat dikes.
Cows in the field chew the utter ripe,
Los Estados Unidos essay kinda neato.

Algorithm Simplest

I attacked the teenagers.
I admit I did.
I inherited them into the government.

In the greater time of decision making
one should impose the state of teenager.

Why did that person join the police force?
Adolf Hitler cherished teenagers.
Grandmother cherished teddy bear figurines.
Why are the teenagers eating snack foods on TV?
Who’s watching the TV,
what era and signal does it signal?