the proletariat

the police
are in the
ventilation
with
fiberoptic cameras
up
telephone poles
installing listening
devices
because
we
have developed
a strange relationship
phoning in
crimes
for them to investigate
and now
they’ve become
suspicious
I
wonder
if they hate
that they’re incompetent

without…

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

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Mutation

frog-self
pass over teeth
salt
slack tongue

imbibe
become
without automatic functions
everything
dilates the sensory

I conquer, I
just to breathe
pushing
at the seams

want to wriggle
out of skin
meet myself
on the other side
of
mental prison

lock-
down
the crawling is too much
heart stuck
to the floor
wet
with cold-sweat
pores
exhausting
noxious
food waste
slime

eye
finally open
kneeling prostrate
with
forgiveness

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

danke schoen

the machine at my
side
beeps non-alert tones
monitoring
my progress
I
woke

this Evening was my
morning
7:30 p.m.
sat on edge of bed
gripping chest
checking neck for pulse
sedentary
I
felt faint

then came the
FEAR
gasping for oxygen
like a
Goldfish

admitted my
soft
squishy meat
to the Emergency Rm.
Doctor says, “I
can’t seem to find
any cause
for these symptoms
you’ve described,

is there the possibility of
hypochondria?”, she said
but didn’t say
slim
brunette
short hair pulled behind ears
clear skin
freckles
blue/green eyes
thin lips
reticent smile

I
was given an arm cuff, and
a blood sugar
test
further questions
with which She
conferred with her
clipboard, after each
as
I lay
looking up w/
wires connected
via plastic nipple stickers
arranged
over my heart

the empirical device
just
beeps
clinical data report
I
‘m beginning to
suspect
that this Doctor
has developed an exclusive
relationship with her
machines, despite the health care
degree
and livelihood dependant on
human networking

my suspicions
were ultimately rewarded
when
She addressed the mass of
blinky monitors
with the same
familiar regard “and,
what seems to be
the problem?”

“mhmm, mhmm…” She
resumed that clipboard conference
as before, and
here I thought I
was the
terminal
patient

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

celebritards

fedoras on City buses
behind pop-literature in cafés
claiming identity is counterculture
censoring the avant-garde
of today

they put themselves
on their crosses
and
attempt to feel
something tortuous to protest
if you’d ask, if
you’d only ask
for
a thimble of genius
the outpour
is vaginal
lachrymose

delicious tears

“The problem with today’s generation
is
that they haven’t lived
in a time before technology
babysat
them.” *
I see
multi-billion dollar mother-
boards, fiber-optic ghettos
cellular
–people drones
modular planetary cities
where
the Martians mow the lawn
all
day in the plastic sun
and the children cry, and
call it
–  political

6% of Americans (191,400)
are faced with a compulsive
shopping
problem.
Other surveys have reported figures ranging
from 12% to 16% (382,800 – 510,400)
~World Psychiatry, 2007

Nahed Hattar
a prominent writer from a Christian family
–Charged With Insulting Islam
is Killed as Extremism Boils Over in Jordan
~NY Times , September 2016

two men with AK47 assault weapons
storm headquarters of Charlie Hebdo newspaper
murdering at least 12 people including 10 journalists.
~January 7, 2015

Adult obesity prevalence by state and territory
… More than one-third (36.5% – 1,154,780) of U.S. adults have 

~Sep 1, 2016 –

“Life is paradoxically finite.” *

* Quotes by Author
© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

nothing

the dark
shadows at my employ
came back to me empty-handed
i
stood before them
within the dome of dream
palms open
waiting

the physical
never fully materialized
and so
the temple walls trembled
as a mist
“how better might we
disappoint you,
master?”
i did not know then
where, or for what
i sent them
and so said
nothing

just stood
watching the mouthless shadows
think
my thoughts

waiting
for myself in wakeful cognizance
to return me to
morning stupor, and
sunny
forgetfulness

eyes open
the phone rings. i
reach for it and answer
“hello?”

“hey,”
it’s her, and she is
morning-tired as i am
she
begins our conversation
with
“I had strange dreams
last night”

i thought to share
but
the moment passed
and so stood
before the bathroom mirror
thinking,
but saying
nothing

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.