Tuxtlo Shine

Last night came out again
in my feces again today.

Will the sunrise still rise
on burned, empty mornings?

Why has the sun continued to care
and the highjacking of planets is
only feasible, within reason?
Thus,
I drag my liver from off this porceline,

the shadows cause me whimper,
the civilizations come and go.

I pass on in shame.

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

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