I see the inhumane shapes
of women in shop windows.
I know that God exists.
I have to know that God exists
. . . as I see the inhumane shapes
of women in the shop windows.
Things cannot be made,
such as the shapes of women
in the shop windows.
These are of infinity,
burned perfectly in neurons,
and they are not agenda.
– poetry from tewkMehrtin.com
I want to feel small.
I am a woman.
I have seen advertisements
all my life.
In them,
women are always
more petite
than men.
When I played with dolls
as a little girl
the female dolls were always
three times as skinny as
the male dolls.
For this reason,
I want to feel small.
I understand this to be love
and
emotional security
and the truth behind
economics.
I have a TV in one room.
I go into the other room to watch the other TV.
Call it the Hall of Wisdom if you want.
I drink my sodas at the half hour of every hour.
Call it the Sacredness of Life at this point;
the Hours of Opportunity,
the Attainment of Ability;
purchasing.
I don’t give a fuck about the
Fascists
who live on down the coast.
They’re down the coast
so I’m not really sure what I
should make of them.
Well, this morning, while having
breakfast
I’m confused.
I look out over the ocean,
over the sunshine that’s breaking
over the ocean
and I wonder about them
on down south
and I know I really could care
less about them
as human beings.
But isn’t this just like thinking
like a baby-boomer again.
What if they were going to
destroy the world,
the Fascists down south,
with their ideologies and actions,
should I care then,
shouldn’t I destroy them?
But god damn!,
isn’t this like thinking like
a baby-boomer as well?
Maybe if I go to the new
barbecue place
I can get rid of the
baby-boomer stuff,
like trade it in or something???
– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
Le grand cyberattack came down from the clouds
one day when I was walking through the park
and passed by intellectuals hanging out,
reading novels and plays.
They sipped coffee, wore berets, ate baguettes.
The berets could be replaced by dark skinny jeans,
disheveled tshirts or designer sport coats
depending on what is marketed at the time
as being the look of the thinking or creative person.
Le grand cyberattack happened in between the floor
of my apartment
and was hardly noticed except by animals and
small creatures
living in an invisible world well beyond our consciousness.
TV was almost devoid of the grand cyberattack
but for the producer’s laptop computer being denied
internet service
while he was trying to purchase last minute airplane tickets
to war-torn Syria.
The effects of le grand cyberattack were unregistered
in Syria
and he eventually made it there to tell us on the television
how it really is
over there.
The future projected to me in cartoons when I was a child
was completely wiped out by le grand cyberattack.
– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
Ten years become twenty.
Twenty years become thirty.
Thirty years become fifty.
Fifty becomes one hundred.
One hundred becomes three hundred.
Three hundred becomes a thousand.
The bones of humans are salt and fade
and the beach is as new as the sky.
The thing that I purchased was bone.
un-hundred is doing best the duty
so is un-thousand, for you, your ego accept
we
left
purchasing
the
birds
feed
on
far
understandings
– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
There were three
Middle Eastern boys
driving around
with a car bomb.
That’s all they ever really do,
drive around with car bombs.
I am Mexican.
I watch TV.
I am black.
I watch TV.
I am white.
I watch TV.
Whitey. White people.
TV good and grand for white people.
Clean your moustache, Officer Mitchell.
– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
We took drugs,
we charged on the military.
The military filed reports
saying
“you can’t charge on the military.”
The President filed reports
stating
there was a new war against the military.
CNN covered stories exonerating
War Machines.
It was opened a
Henry Kissinger School for Diplomacy.
It was a four for one sale, Margaret.
We loosened our diapers and
played with our doo-doo.
– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
Antipoémus (poetry book)
I attempted to write.
I attempted to do,
before children no longer mattered.
If ever I write,
if ever I do,
then children no longer matter.
Children own pieces.
Children have brains.
Children submit the ideology o nationhood.
Children as interests.
Children as food.
Children no longer matter.
– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
Antipoémus (poetry book)
