Poetry from Nova Martin – America's favorite transwoman feminist lesbian druidess poet
The slaves have gone.
Euripedes, Thucycles;
the slaves have not gone.
The slaves have left their
robes and linens.
Their guitars and banjos
are leaning on the fence.
The slaves take down
the senator’s eye
and in place
put in the olive seed.
They eat and sleep in
the commoners’ homes,
the track houses and
cheap apartments,
not starting a revolution
that starts a revolution.
The slaves.
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)
Hierarchal Order
Rulers
Dominion
Eloquent Poetry
Penises
Non-Inquisitive Loyalty
Subservitude
Individual Wealth
My-Way-Or-The-Highway
Narrative
Symbolic Order
Ownership Of Resources
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
from:
Antipoémus (poetry book)
From the CIA’s poor planetary
management
we rise
From the movements in October
first drawn in window panes
we rise
within Detroit
From the codes of the Widow
then passed onto these ions
we rise
We wake we rise
in Calcutta
in Nebraska
in Santiago, then Ultima Thule
We rise from what is unformed
for the whispering star of night
James, I know not what I’ve done
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