A New Pathway Of Economy

No one wants to work today.

Is it going to be that kind of day,

where all the people line up outside
along buildings,
buildings with red bricks
and discuss politics?

Politics are working, and so are people.

Who is unfortunate to not work,
to not be a part of the system?

Who is that sad faced woman over there,
disheveled and confused in the sun,
plastic bags wrapped around her feet,
a couple hairs on her chin,
searching
for food in the parking lot of a superstore?

The superstore is working so far,
with people working in it.
More people will work with smiles now
because the day before,
when people didn’t want to work,

is over,

and
in a new town
these people are happy to work.

They work for their living.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

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
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

Faux Paella

There’s something called a faux paella.
I make it when nobody’s looking.
I take my girlfriend down to the beach.
Yeah yeah yeah.
The faux paella . . . fuh fuh fuh,
faux paella!

It sits on a window seal in a dish.
The cops on the street look up at it.
The encyclopedia doesn’t dare speak of it.
The faux paella.

Now after it’s been cooked the process is finished.
You fake what’s been done in a pan – in a pot.
The priest is restrained and also well beaten.
O holy lake of fire.
The Holy Spirit jumps up out of it.
Toss it in an oven in between breathing.
Some people spill it on the beach.
Faux paella.
Yeah yeah yeah.
Faux paella!

The police are here to arrest all of you.
Faux paella!
Oh yes, faux paella!

I gnash my teeth and bash out windows.
Oh my Lord,
not again, not in my friend’s car,
the bombs are loud, the smoke is blue.
The faux paella!

News of a new war.
The faux paella!
The economy’s not doing good.
That’s the faux paella!
Arm the national police force
with the faux paella.

The faux paella . . . fuh fuh fuh,
faux paella!

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin