Your Logos

You wear logos.
The wearing of logos
makes you
feel good.
It makes you who you are.
You are the person
wearing logos
with meaning.
Your meaning is
to be a person and
to wear logos,
to wear the marks of
corporations.
Corporations are
people too.
You give them a voice.
They speak through you.
Your sacred moments
here.

The Class of Tom And Del Greco

The slaves have gone.
Euripedes, Thucycles;
the slaves have not gone.
The slaves have left their
robes and linens.
Their guitars and banjos
are leaning on the fence.

The slaves take down
the senator’s eye
and in place
put in the olive seed.

They eat and sleep in
the commoners’ homes,
the track houses and
cheap apartments,
not starting a revolution
that starts a revolution.
The slaves.

Always A Great Crash

When will the markets fall?
The ghosts of the Palatine know
this.
The futile obsolescence is
faith.
The pillaged and raped tomorrow
being the rich in this hour
with their orange groves.
The ghosts of the Palatine know
this
and yet they build more skyscrapers
in New York City
where the water is rising
and will rise before the migration
to space is possible
and the fiends of eternity will
perish.

The Exalt Complacence

A river runs through my ass,
a ball of worlds.

Pissing and shitting,
a Neanderthal of time.

A ball of worlds. The owner of words.

Perhaps a turd.

An invitation to intellectualism.

A turd. A toilet.

A turd and a toilet,
I dig for survivors.

In the face of things
I again survive,

even watch the sunrise,
my farthest Laura of the Petrarch.

The intellectualism hast not survived,
I am Son of Man.

Amended. Amended.
A toilet. A toilet.

– from Antipoémus

A Colossal Of Car

A giant car,
the size of 30 Empire State Buildings
rose up before the metroplex of Dallas-Fort Worth.

Holding loft in the sky,
holding all dominion,
it towered over 1 billion miles of highway.

The highways ran left and right
as far as the eye could see,
merging into Space
and Infinity at the edge of the horizon.

Speckled here and there were signs for
AppleBee’s,
Wal-Mart,
McDonald’s,
and Home Depot.

This colossal of car held sway
and took place of the 5 million people
living down below, back on the ground.

The remainder of the cars,
that the seven and a half million people
once used,
got up and walked to the ocean.

PictoPoem of S.T.R.E.N.G.T.H. Cats

STRENGTH-Cats-WP

It’s the poetry that bleeds for us, from the bleeding that those on the top are doing from beating and beating us. As long as we have our TV shows, social media, and iPhones, they can keep on beating and beating us.

S.T.R.E.N.G.T.H. Cats
from ANTIPOEMUS.com

S.T.R.E.N.G.T.H. Cats

In the middle of the night I awake
to the smell of bacon and eggs in the air.

The people of the world
are outside on the lawn cooking bacon and eggs
for the President of the United States.

The United States military is standing all around them,
pointing guns at them
while they cook bacon and eggs for the President.

They give him the eggs of their daughters,
their ovaries for an American football match,
a contest of strength.

The President is the Signifier of Penis.
This sentence is the signifier of rape.


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

Saturn

Saturn come to destroy
the M-16 deliverance

a wall falls
on a family of peasants in China

the free world elects a president

a tyrant takes his post in the leftover lands
of Persia

technology beats the bayonets

a tank crushes canisters of food

somewhere at latitudes north of northwest
Saturn is crushing the spark of
new gravity

Saturn is man’s holy alliance,
his walled cathedrals and the
tapestries of mosques

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

My Thing

Hispanics love big celebrations.

They’re having babies more than anyone else on the market.

We do know that they send a lot of money home.

A lot of banks now are trying to get into that market
because there is so much money there.

Most Hispanics, Mexicans specifically,
really like a lot of colors,
they like to have a lot of color around them.

L.A. has by far the largest segment of the market.

Because it is my baby I feel very strongly about it,
I very much love this market.

It is my thing;

the Hispanic market.

* This is a found poem taken from a conversation I overheard a marketing
director have with a coworker of mine once upon a time.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image