M.I.N.E.

We never walk at sundown.

We could live better on this planet.

You hold your dark eyes
and I hold mine too.

If everyone stays inside their house
and guards their possessions
then we’ll call the planet Earth.

You will have a forehead made of stone.
I will remember the scent of stone.

A solar star burns
and
mortals go capturing its light,

but we could live better on this planet

so I guess
you will have your possessions
and I will have mine.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Soda And Derelict

The civil clerk is a good person
and usually is anyways
good
left up to others
to take care of tasks
would nothing become
some other one’s job is for Sunday
or some day of learning
does until done
what is needed on a morning
all parents die


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Taking Apart A Pot Of Coffee

while i was taking apart the pot of coffee
the hipsters looked in
then came the yuppies and suburbanites later.

dude
what are you doing they said
that thing ain’t a model of the universe
it’s not on tv
you’ll never survive like this.

looking up at the beige walls
i continued to take apart the pot of coffee
many many many winters passed
until i had a beautiful beach at my feet
many many many winters i must stress.

you can collect your paycheck for 30 years
watch tv
have a career
get clothes, money, houses, gadgets, cars
or you can take apart a pot of coffee for infinitum.

be forewarned
if you take apart a pot of coffee
people will heckle and belittle you
they’ll grow old in front of your eyes
if you’re good you’ll be sent to a state home
for doing so
if you do things right though
you’ll be happy regardless of your income or location
while taking apart this pot of coffee
in fact i don’t believe income or location will matter
in the long run while doing things as such.

you can take apart a pot of coffee
in a bathroom
on a spaceship
on a mountain top or while waiting on a table
for an mri.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Quality Of Life

“I’m
gonna sit here
and
drink
my canned soda
until
my liver
makes me
bored.”


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
lovers of the century thumbnail image
Lovers Of The Century (poetry book)

Los Burger King Pimploss

Bury my body in Burger King

that it should be usurped into Living
where
the Universe parts

and the boxes of the same things
with the same music playing

shall be the Key to Freedom.

. . . the beach of the first light.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin

Riddle Kippler

There was one long ago

a human who lived as one

but now the one of the collectively
none
had done the undone
that returns the silence of the era.

The ones and twos stand with shoulders and skin
and worry which is which, who will see

who will see me
do the things I do
standing as such in a way that others may be

looking at me.

I posture and fix my hair, set out,

go to the shopping center, greet, handshake

look for life as American Idol on TV.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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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
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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
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The 100 Trillion Distances

The door to my room
looks like it goes somewhere,

to a land of opportunity maybe,
to a corridor leading into outer space?

The light of my room
is a day
under which
isolated men lay scattered on islands and beaches.

Their skin and my skin,

it is more different here than the planet the women live on,

the all-exuding sun! the all-exuding sun!

it is more different here than the planet the women live on.

There are 50,000 islands between me and the next man,

languages as vast as the stars
that we mutter to the mercantile winds,

tears that no other civilization will know.

We beat our heads with rocks
as we stand on our islands looking out to sea.

The light of my room is a solitary place I dwell.

Would you call this existing in an atmosphere
of phosphorescent glowing

. . . a body of penis and beard and prison?

It is appearance.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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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