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

Unpublishable Savants

Guns de Militaire

guns of the gangsta

[large and proportional distances]

The poetry of journals
The poetry of the great White sentiment

Guns de Militaire

a poetry of the lower classes
[are there class distinctions?]

The Guns de Militaire

oh, but wretched guns of the gangsta


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

Semen And Scorpions

Semen and scorpions.
We gotta do this.

Resurrect the old ages
and improve them
before the scriptures existed.
Correct the old follies
of leaders,
of men always,
this is the case,
what a shit show is the
biological being with
ballz dangling between
his legs,

so vulnerable.

We’ve got to correct him,
the weakling
leading everyone astray.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

A Winter At Valley Forge

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 thumbnail image Antipoémus (poetry book)

New Luxury Apartments

For hundreds of millions of years
the cliffs above the South San Gabriel River
stood with white rocks, tallgrass, and
old curled oak trees.

But coming this fall
NEW LUXURY APARTMENTS
will replace all that
with engineers with halitosis
who design military weaponry
for the largest employer in the county,
play video games,
watch sports at chain sports bars,
buy seventy inch TVs,
vacation on cruises,
and eat lots of cereal and bulk bags of
beef jerky from Costco
to perfect a certain stale fecal scent
on their breath
that soon the beige sheetrock walls
of the NEW LUXURY APARTMENTS
will have the pleasure of absorbing.

This poem is a demonstration of
economics, our high-aiming economics,
our prized freedom,
or specifically, what is known as
the fecal economy.

Door To The Sky

And while you were sleeping,
the door to the sky
came open.

While you
negotiated your job title,
watched television,
paid on your mortgage,
went down to the store.

The door to the sky.
The door to the sky!
. . . Made many people wealthy
as they colluded with the
pontificates of being,
shipping your dreams and
your genetics
off to the arching, elliptical sky.

Tactic Racial Lullaby

When the twilight was falling
American soldiers took their babies.
. . . for babies must be taken . . .
Whose babies?
Where babies?
Babies gooby goo-goo?
Do people still need babies?

When the war against the Arabs started
Americans hid their babies.
This baby.
My baby.
Cannot babies live subterranean?
They are very tiny diggers.
Teensy tiny, dig, dig.

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

A Photon’s Pubescence

 

Ten children are missing
in the place between
here
and
now.

They’re left for air and radiation,
our Father’s home is in the sky.

The housing development contains wood panel walls
and alarm clocks,
tables with plates of crackers sitting on top them
and spilled cups of juice.

The housing development expands
and receives
the edge of Space and the daybreak.

Between 500 square miles a cosmic living room
begins to open to the heavens, ballistic missile silos,
and the ionized atmosphere.

There are the children,
in uniforms and now giants in mirrored optical physics.

A character in a cartoon show yells,
“It’s an optical illusion, we’re headed to Dimension 15!”

The character is being shown to you on television
(or in the mirrored optical physics market).