Tyler Martin Poems
|41.||Suffer The Options||5/13/2015|
|47.||Dating In The Middle Ages||5/13/2015|
|48.||Dating In The Middle Ages, Part 2||5/13/2015|
|49.||Fundamentals Poke Bullets In Vacations||5/13/2015|
|50.||Listen To The Bones||5/13/2015|
|52.||Thoughts On Feelings||5/13/2015|
|53.||Footprints On The Ceiling||5/13/2015|
|58.||To A Brooding Fool||5/13/2015|
|59.||Depression Is A Privilege||5/13/2015|
|61.||To A Common Tonga||5/13/2015|
|63.||Gracenote Do's And Dont's||5/13/2015|
|74.||An Ocean Of Culture Between Us||6/6/2017|
|75.||Breathing Is Boring||6/6/2017|
What Day Is It?
That would be today, but according to the vaginal data this would be might,
and finally the adjustment is boned. A looming silence fingers the air,
until a shattering clack of vertical blinds alerts him to what's in there.
The distance is subdermal, for gravy’s got the hematoma. Here
comes the part where source transmission blunders through the line,
for finally does it feel like it might be fine without it, a lock,
sitting sillier still inside the hole of the key of life.
Transmission: bodies, corded like moldering wood in a sleet storm,
steaming still ...
Drool 4 U
I had two strawberries, then one, now none:
One had hairy boobs and the other’s a China doll
With blood-encrusted fingers after sister took up scissors
And, in a rage, went after her with jealous rigor.
These women were in love with what I represent,
For I am a two-by-four to the back of the head.
The flies lay eggs in the corner and their little ones
Wriggle across the floor when I chase them.