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

Food Food Inth Sacred

I would like a Texas Double Cheeseburger™.
I should want an era of mass advancement.

I would like an order of Biggie Fries™,
for it is an era, my fine Plutarch,
of the haves and have nots.

Is it not a moment of contemplation?

[a time for barbecue sauce and
Crispy Chicken Nuggets™]

I play with my ketchup.
I play with my doo-doo.

Living in this era, it is like
playing with ketchup and doo-doo,
mixing it up, ketchup with doo-doo,
eating food food
(like this so,
humane and mythological).

These things get up and walk to the deity.

The deity baptizes them “food food”;
for they have walked, actually walked,
the Texas Double Cheeseburger™,
the Biggie Fries™
and Crispy Chicken Nuggets™,
etc.

in the bodies of human life-forms.

from AntiPoemus.com

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)

Tuxtlo Shine

Last night came out again
in my feces again today.

Will the sunrise still rise
on burned, empty mornings?

Why has the sun continued to care
and the highjacking of planets is
only feasible, within reason?
Thus,
I drag my liver from off this porceline,

the shadows cause me whimper,
the civilizations come and go.

I pass upon in shame.


– 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
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

As Brother

I’ve gone beyond the walls,
beyond the walls of Athens

to smoke my cigarette

with the Arabs, the Africans, and Persians.

Though I go not here to
turn on Athens,
to show no one the entrance into her,

but to be with these ones as other,
to smoke with them
as brother,
in the hours of the citrus sun,
the yellow, the gold, the white, and red,

for those of us who have arms and legs.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin