Morality And Mortality

I’m wrong.

I’m full of mortality.

Portions of me
were an orange from Valencia.

Portions of me
spoke to my classmates
in an auditorium in college.

Portions of me
walked through the Agora
at midday
with pieces of billion year old
dust all around.

I’m wrong.

I’m full of mortality.

You turn your eyes away from
these words.

You’re wrong too.

The evening sky burns pink and
orange.

: : Poetry from tewkMehrtin

World In Night

I go out into the world.
It’s dark.
Only insects, lamplight, and night.
You’re not there.
Evil is though.
Lots of evil is out there,
all around in the night.
The trees gather closely
over the sidewalk.
These trees know how to live
with good and evil.
Humanity does not.
So I am scared.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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The Reasons Of Production

When you kicked over those boxes
they knocked over the other boxes
containing the styrofoam cups.

It broke a lot of them.

You yelled “fuck you” at the boss one time
and you’ve never worked
when you weren’t being supervised.

I have yet to see you
put the broom and the dustpan up
at the end of the day.

What Happened At Arby’s®

The hug of humans we saw it.
We called for it
in
the
wild

and

the creatures left us.

Left us by sunlight and beaches.

What else is there after beaches?

Silicon dioxide, photo albums,

mountain peaks in the distance,

the beating of spouses
leaves us
as barren as the landscapes we’ve spoken
by our own bones alone,
by the Ford Ranger parked under awnings,
the cigarettes on the dash.

Your mouth was empty when you ate only bread
tilted your head, had anger,

we have to deal with our conscience.

The cotton shirt had stains as they walked out,

remembered forever.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Sacrifice Ye Ancestoroid

Run ‘round the rotunda brother.

Run ’round the rotunda mother.

I will bash both your heads in,
the both of you,

while you are running around the rotunda,
mother and brother
clouds do tell

the King Makers, the King Killers
lined up all around the rotunda.

You worship on both sides of morality,
worshiping, worshiping, worshiping.

Worshiping the whiteness of light
and the whiteness of stone,
the smell of mineral or concrete,
lemon scented candles,
white cotton sheets.

The Aztecs were tipped off sideways,
off into the sun.

I killed them in the Spring,
it’s like Summertime here.
My telegram to the county commissioner
standing right now by the church
said:

“O, my brother and mother are dead.
I have killed them.
In Spring it’s like Summertime here,
ten o’clock yesterday morning,
they were the walking dead,
the bait fisters . . . the bait fisters!

I’m sorry but I cannot fix this
with their knees twisted backwards, broken in time,
that bloody time
they broke with their damn bait fisting, the bait fisters
still walking, still worshiping.

It goes on in the programmatic genetics.”


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

Destructo Market World

I’d like to invite you to war.

“War is hell,” my grandfather said.

Things are going to be on sale.

After the war
there will be volume buying power.
There will be everything.

We are fighting this war for freedom.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

Testing The Booky

Dogs bark
at the sea-break,
buildings getting
taller and taller.

I guess we’re testin’ the booky,
testin’ the booky.

A philosophy teacher
once told me,
“Go out there,
and test that god-damned booky.”


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

The Segment In The Bible About “Mob Mentality”

“Mob mentality allows us
to make fun of disabled children.

Mob mentality engenders us to say stuff like
‘Ah yeah, booyah bitch!’

Mob mentality solicits a group from loneliness,
from loneliness,
to support a Republican or a Democrat,
consent it to a president,
consent the apathy of
otherness.

Mob mentality is the great right right goodness
that defines an ignorant people.”

– Zebucus (at the Sea of Similarity)


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

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