STD Clinic Poem

The Coach said not to.

He said simply,

“When it comes up over the hill,
just don’t do it guys,
don’t do it.”

Now you’re wondering where the Camaro is.
Why did it go away?
Why has it not come back around the corner?

But the sun knew the desert well.
The damn desert goes on and on,
and well,
the desert knows the sun.
These are not really consolations for you.
I’m sorry.

The Coach entered the bathroom
and there were tiles,
they were turquoise and plaster tiles,

and he said clearly,
“get me out of here”.

Then
we watched them throw tiles at Coach’s
lifeless body.

The sunrise was beautiful as we wept
and raised our crusty eyes with spatial baptisms.
We wondered why they would do that to our Coach.

We’d been through so much with that guy,
even the Petroleum Wars
where he kept it tuned to AM 1280
and we hid underground.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

At The Axis Of Night

When the desert was outside
I dragged the dildo outside
and pointing to the South wind
I plaintively said your name,
looking at the edges of Tuscon,
“Raymond . . . Raymond . . . Raymond”.
The wet glaze on the
polyvinyl chloride phallus
became lost and muffled,
muddled with dust.
I coughed and my lungs hurt,
a lone bird chirped in the distance
towards the east,
towards the chain hotels,
the sad glow of logos,
the chain restaurants,
the generic corporate way of life
we all know.
Then,
I walked back inside to watch
Channel 8,
still mumbling to myself,
“Raymond . . . Raymond . . . Raymond”.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

The Sun Prince’s Wife

You left me laying on the bed
with the dildo.

Darkness had fallen
and all the lights were off.

I woke up naked
and alone.

My mouth was dry.

The quiet desert sat outside the
hotel room.

A lone sparrow chirped in the
distance.