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)

The Countenance Unto Doctor

“God having a penis.
The reasons, Dr. Morgan Rutherford;
I spent time by myself alone
and no one came.”

“And you say God has a penis?
Why can he not have problems
with his asshole?
Or, viscosity and talking lips
that ramble the fates of men?”

“But Doc, how glorious should I die
in the stillness of the countryside
with a 12-gauge shotgun
blowing my fucking brains out?
Stallions run outside.
Oak trees dream under that sky.
My parents would say ‘O my God’,
God would die with me,
would he not?”

“Well yes, yes, I am doctor.”

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Jesus Of Nazareth (Third Grade Mentalities)

He did not die.

He lives forever.

He does not live in a world of make-believe.

He did not die.

He lives forever.

He is Jesus Christ.

He is not something floating in the realm of belief.

He walks on water!

He applies to all the stars that have ever existed
and all civilizations across every planet,

for even if
they do not know Jewish Palestinian Aramaic,
ancient Greek,
or English,

he still speaks to them.

Even if
they have have not eyes or mouths,
they still taste and see . . .

he is white,
with long hair,
wears robes,
walks with legs and feet,
and has a beard.

He is real.

Philistine Mathematic

Christ + Missy = Chrissy.
She’s outside the building right now,
behind it.
Chrissy has a couple powers,

being made from Christ and Missy.

Chrissy . . . Chrissy . . . Chrissy.

She’s smoking a cigarette.
Don’t tell Missy.
Christ will be mad.
Christ doesn’t get mad.
Verily I say unto you,
Chrissy comes from the crossing of
Christ and Missy.

Was that Christ or Missy speaking?
That was Christ again,
popping up out of Chrissy,
the telepathic hologram thingy.

Chrissy just put
her cigarette out in the flowers.

Chrissy!

She walked back inside the portable building.

Chrissy . . . Chrissy . . . Chrissy.

Is Chrissy the one who named her dog Steven?

Steven better get back over here.
He’s gone across the property line.

The neighbor’s calling.

Chrissy, you left Steven outside again.

He’s gone across the property line.