Tag: work

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

Poems

The Reasons Of Production

When you kicked over those boxes
they knocked over the other boxes
containing the styrofoam cups.

It broke a lot of them.

You yelled “fuck you” at the boss one time
and you’ve never worked
when you weren’t being supervised.

I have yet to see you
put the broom and the dustpan up
at the end of the day.

Poems

Coinkydink Simulacra

At the Center For Questionable Thought
we waited on a delivery,

while waiting we chatted, talked,

watched the sun go down over the
fields outside the windows,

it bleached the air with some sort of electricity
that was orange

and it excited us and the insects out in the fields too.

We drank a couple beers, held their tastes,
smelled the smell of the old place,

I do recall a smell of dank linoleum.

We also did a bunch of filing of papers and organizing
all the boxes by their months and years.

We waited for the deliveries
and were congenial with each other as we did,

as we were inside that structure.

 

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Poems

Until I Have To Go Back To Work

You get to have 2 days off?

You guys are going to plug away at each other’s
buttholes
for 2 days straight.

Malachi answers
“Yes.”

“I’m going to try to keep my penis inside his ass
for the entire 48 hour period
until
I
have
to
go
back
to
work.”

 

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Poems

Perfectly Controlled Sectors

A world without elasticity
builds long memories in my dreams.

The world of having a job,
riding a train,
dreaming of retirement.

As I come in and see the
tall buildings.

Every second in time, I see,
this gets more and more
attuned.

The manner in which this is
all
broken into
perfectly controlled sectors
I cannot count.

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

video poem

From Money And Power

We’re talking about a freedom
from money and power.

What do you mean?

Blank look.

We’re talking about a freedom
from money and power.

Looks at TV.

I don’t understand you.

I gotta go.
I’ll talk to you next week.

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Poems

Commuter Train

I have seen her breasts
pressed in between
blouses and heaven,
viewed her wedding ring
turn magazine pages
in the reflection of the
window,

going south on her
morning train
away from her husband,
suburban home, and
children,

into the city for gray rooms,
stale breath, business reports,
and the remnant of
what was human,

going south on her
morning train.

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin