The Exalt Complacence

A river runs through my ass,
a ball of worlds.

Pissing and shitting,
a Neanderthal of time.

A ball of worlds. The owner of words.

Perhaps a turd.

An invitation to intellectualism.

A turd. A toilet.

A turd and a toilet,
I dig for survivors.

In the face of things
I again survive,

even watch the sunrise,
my farthest Laura of the Petrarch.

The intellectualism hast not survived,
I am Son of Man.

Amended. Amended.
A toilet. A toilet.

– from Antipoémus

Residence With Artists

I think I have to pee,
gonna go pee,
“go pee”.

Pissed by an oasis in the Sahara.
Pissed in zero gravity.
Pissed while it was pinching me,
deep breaths,
blistery breaths,
blistery piss, red colored piss.
Pissed out my medication.

They got me shitting
like everyone else does here,
I do not like it.
My urine sat in toilets,
went unnoticed,
until I got caught up in conversations
about the fine quality of Atlantisean porcelain,

they made me flush it.


– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
lovers of the century thumbnail image
Lovers Of The Century (poetry book)