Poetry from Nova Martin – America's favorite transwoman feminist lesbian druidess poet
Fruit in the night
by my solitary self
is freedom
the nationed ones cannot know
the nationed ones look to windows
to know
counting through filters
what one is to be told
revive the baptisms of the satellites
the nationless does know
the fruit in the night
and
what love can spell
how love knows to hold bones
or tell them
the truth of
what home is
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
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)
Not am I certain
of the United States Marine Corps.
Not have they won every battle.
Not is the look in their eyes
a violence bred of poverty.
Their alumni wear the moustaches,
their moustaches orderly like freedom.
Their moustaches, the stinkpots of freedom,
they are strong and smell of dank.
Order the conflicts for protection.
That our wars should never end.
People come home fucked up from them.
Many people never come home.
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
from:
Antipoémus (poetry book)
novamartinpoetry.com 