Saidness

You move on me, not like a mirror,
but like daylight.

A dying man’s life was really a day,
one long day of life:
watch the sky open, watch the sky close.
This cloudscape belongs above Montana.

You step in me, not like mud,
but like river:
unlike the cat chase of Mohenjo-Daro,
unlike the Martian meteorites.

The turquoise from the jewelry-makers of God
I take from your eyes
and hold onto the colors of day.
There: life is frozen.

O Antarctica, only you have beaten time,
or so
the foreign-exchange students
from the mermaid-lands
have told me.

I love you, football, tender, tender.

 

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

Letter To A Statue

This is the phone number
for the gatekeeper of Althesius,
(555) 484-1123.
He is an excellent fisherman.

Althesius is a gated seaport.
Very odd,
but since the conquest of Xerxes
we have feared other invasions,
except the sunrises
and the bronzing that it does to
our morning smiles.

We eat grapes in the morning, freshly harvested,
bathe in the sea,
listen to the cries of the homosexual waves
on the homosexual sea-nymphs.
The sunlight touches them: they are brethren.

“Come with me
and I
will make you
fishers
of men.”

 

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

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,
barely,
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
from:
lovers of the century thumbnail image
Lovers Of The Century (poetry book)

Enzyme Face With Gravy

You, the bite of grape after wine,
I cried on your breasts.
My tears fled to the desert,
waves of sand, waves of water.
I made oceans fall apart
when the world was just beginning.
Took bites of cheese in front of you,
swallowed.
The cliffs of mountain sides
were falling down every 24-hour cycle.
Infantile planets do that.
You must pick them up,
raise them to their solar star
so that they will photosynthesize.
I was thriving in your tenderloin muscles,

a co-enzyme I think I am.

 

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