Poetry from Nova Martin – America's favorite transwoman feminist lesbian druidess poet
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 by W.T. tuqMairtin
I want to feel small.
I am a woman.
I have seen advertisements
all my life.
In them,
women are always
smaller
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 these reasons,
I want to feel small.
I understand this to be love
and
emotional security
and the reality behind
economics;
needs created.
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.
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 W.T. tuqMairtin
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 W.T. tuqMairtin
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 W.T. tuqMairtin
from:
Antipoémus (poetry book)
novamartinpoetry.com 