politics – novamartinpoetry.com

Go Back

I can’t go back
to her apartment drunk
at 3 o’clock in the morning,
watching her gorgeous blue eyes
watch me
and her ripe full lips talk to me
underneath her shroud of
cherry red hair.

She’s dead.

Washed out alone in her car
in a flash flood in Texas.

Texas is still the frontier.

On the frontier you die alone.
And the politicians of Texas
ensure it remains the frontier
so
people can die alone,
unaided, unsupported,
free from the tyranny of assistance.

Like the end days of marketization say,
sensitive to its place in the timeline of humanity —
do not come here.

Do not go to Texas.

The pristine, new, symbiotic cities exist afar.
Go there,
survive, adjust,
be the next version of humanity
and live.

The 254 eunuchs
serve first
the dying beast of an exploited land.

Every man for himself.

Increased capitalized wealth.

God,
keep us free from other people.

Until none of this matters at all.

Poems

If I go down into the town,
where the Wal-Mart and Taco Bell await,
let me buy
what others have bought.
I want to have what others have.
Let me follow.
Be a follower.
Be an American.
A Republican or Democrat.
Be a man, always look like one.
Drive a truck.
But if they talk,
if they come to talk to me,
I am me, I have my shotgun,
get out of my way, leave me be.
I am tough.
But, what are they up to?
The collection of cells, organs,
and the latest trends from the internet.
Fight for your life,
fight for your family.
Leave me alone.

Poems

To My Parents, The Baby Boomers

I know we don’t agree on much.
Y’all think God has a penis.
I don’t think God even has genitals.
And if he did, he would have a vagina.
A big, boundless, life-giving,
life-affirming, endlessly sweet-smelling
vagina.
It would smell like a brand new, pristine
recently constructed corporate conference room
that someone had poured the finest
Tupelo honey all over,
with that scent of blessed sunshine coming in
through the windows at midday.
But,
regardless of our disagreements and y’alls
views on God’s gender and genitals,
y’all did the right thing by voting for
Joe Biden.
Especially considering
that y’all had previously voted for Donald Trump
back in 2016.
I’m glad you were able to see what a
pathetic, corrupt, poser, loser,
petulant, bully, child he is.

Poems

So Nice

Everything was
so nice
when we were the President’s children.
Visiting and remembering
the things we got
that mostly everyone else didn’t get.
We are Americans
so of course we like
exclusionary and private things
that others don’t get.
Am I wrong?
Or is this what it means to
be an American?
And if you don’t get these things,
then you posture to make it look
like you are well on your way
to having them,
or you had them once upon a time
from previous achievements.
You have seasoned experience.
Certainly.
Talk about success.
Or, what is upcoming,
surely you’ll have those things again,
you’ll create new success.
Your ship will come in.
It will be better.

These are the common archetypes
we talk around.

Antipoémus, Poems

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 W.T. tuqMairtin

from:

Antipoémus (poetry book)

Poems

Clown Presidential

I defend the family.
I stand upon the balance.
I defend the family.
I stand upon my head.

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Poems

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 W.T. tuqMairtin

Antipoémus, Poems

Generic Rappin’ Eastside River

Suck my bleach,
yo President whitey.

When the kingdoms you want,
the kingdoms you create.

Suck my bleach,
yo President whitey.

You suckin’ people’s faith.
You suckin’ people’s fear.

Suck my bleach,
yo President whitey.

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
from:

Antipoémus (poetry book)

Antipoémus, Poems

The Segment In The Bible About “Mob Mentality”

“Mob mentality allows us
to make fun of disabled children.

Mob mentality engenders us to say stuff like
‘Ah yeah, booyah bitch!’

Mob mentality solicits a group from loneliness,
from loneliness,
to support a Republican or a Democrat,
consent it to a president,
consent the apathy of
otherness.

Mob mentality is the great right right goodness
that defines an ignorant people.”

– Zebucus (at the Sea of Similarity)

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
from:

Antipoémus (poetry book)

Poems

My President Of The Shakespeare

“I believe that freedom and commerce
are values worthy of defending,
that those who may try to shake
the foundation of American prosperity
shall be ineffectual in their attempts.
I believe that terrorism and terrorists
no longer have caves to hide in,
nor governments to protect them,
that all the world is allied
in the fight for the preservation of
what is good.
I believe in a high protein, low fat diet.
And that the evil ones shall be dealt
a great talk with freedom.
Americans, knowledgeable,
sleep tight by your justice,
an economy awaits whose perseverance
shall triumph
the resiliency of freedom.”