Spooky Season

When I am impoverished
in the countless different ways
would you mean
what it is to eat
in the chain restaurants

the role playing tourists

the people who have aunts and uncles

the specialized drinks
the unnaturalized offspring

the séances walk backward
to be holding the dead

in the waiting area spilled fajita meat
gets picked up

by
those
with
back
problems

the séances walk forward
the superchurches are peopled


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

Perfectly Controlled Sectors

A world without elasticity
dreams on from here.

The world of having a job,
riding a train,
dreaming of retirement.

As I come in and see the
tall buildings.

Every second in time, I see,
this gets more and more
attuned.

The manner in which this is
all
broken into
perfectly controlled sectors
I cannot count.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

The Twelve Antiquities

Hierarchal Order

Rulers

Dominion

Eloquent Poetry

Penises

Non-Inquisitive Loyalty

Subservitude

Individual Wealth

My-Way-Or-The-Highway

Narrative

Symbolic Order

Ownership Of Resources


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

Bells of Tolrileum

The Bells of Tolrileum
I heard during torture,
the marketization, rule systems,
and subjugation
of
people.
The unfreedoms.
The magik. Symbology.

I remember the lost civilizations

          the Way of the Queens

          the days of learning and courage

          introspection with molecules.

I heard the Bells of Tolrileum.

Now
others are hearing.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

From Money And Power

We’re talking about a freedom
from money and power.

What do you mean?

Blank look.

We’re talking about a freedom
from money and power.

Looks at TV.

I don’t understand you.

I gotta go.
I’ll talk to you next week.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

The Billionaire’s Pastiche

Riot. Riot. Riots.

They have built a mountain out of
symbols.

A net, a web, a pedagogy of
controls.

Who was this man?
Who are the high-excluded,
the killers of the four Kennedys?
These star controllers
with patents and chipsets,
electrodes and diodes,
combines
colluding the genetic flora genomes,

oh, a far off quota
hidden in iron mountains under
different ultraviolet spectrums.

For we must be altered
so they there,
so they there can live.
Remember the Agora!
Remember the Forum!

But the riot. Riot. Riots
could stop this
if words could meet them
on the other side of the electrical
divide,
beyond the spell of electrical devices,

in their hearts out in the streets.

The Riots . . . The Great Rejection.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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The World War 1 Of Capitalism

Were they killing their minds
as they marched into muddy
battles
blood fueled of cigarettes
bearing the weapons
of industrialism

profiteering the madness
of madmen
to exalt the mass market
the mass cause of advertising
ideologies
the mass murder of
freedom and country
the mass masses
the peons

the grand mass extinction
plan

the good common people


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

Credo Nathan Mumbled

Onst poverty I can’ts buy
the best of the cheap bread;
with American Express®,
the premium brands,
for women
their panty hose,
silk blouses for breasts,
steak dinners times ten.

Where do I go to apply
for luxuries and convenience,
and I may not qualify?
Will a government agency help me
live thee up to standards?

The liberty to possess
and use
American Express®
is attained by honor;
this is not a threat.


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

Abercrombie & Fitch Equations

We’re here
on the outside
close to clean air.
The green, blue, and gray air.
The beige tones in between.
The air of reds and greens
and browns in the colder
times of year.
The shifting things you want;
we’ve got them.
We shift them.
We shift you.
You want luxury, vacations,
wealth, and freedom.

We’ve got you.
You’re in our eyes;

your hope, your money.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image