trust

Today
the man on the television
addressed me
directly
He said
I sure would like
to have more for less,
wouldn’t you?
“well,
sure i would.” I thought
but didn’t say
then
He said
“…and why
wouldn’t you?”
I got up
and looked outside, and
saw the streets
were empty

then the t.v man
spoke to me
again
I returned to my chair
and He said
It’s going to be overcast
this morning,
make sure
you dress for the weather.
“of course.” I thought
returning
to the window
hearing
no sounds of people
seeing
nothing but vacant spaces

“nobody goes anywhere,”
I said
“children creep about
the neighbourhood,
vandalizing whatever
they can get their hands on

the adults yell indoors &
zone-out on drugs,
sex, and
plastic surgery futures

and everywhere
people are afraid
of the President

they think he’s a wack-o
but
not me. No,
the other day there were
internet viruses
on the News
a
fact-based documentary
featuring
civil war zombies
come to life
in Brownsville Texas!

egyptian alien hypnosis

and Republican witch Cults
in the White House
i
don’t
think
the president has any idea
what kind of mess
he’s in.”

wouldn’t you
like more
for less?
“What about you
Mister t.v Man?
wouldn’t you
convert healthy infrastructure
to
cancerous Franchise brand names

wouldn’t you
use addictive substances
as a means to control

politics as a language
to manipulate and confuse
and
media as a vehicle for
propaganda
more for less,
more for less

then the t.v blinked off
HA! I yelled at the dead screen
feeling victorious

then the phone rang
it was the Service Provider People
they
insisted
that I upgrade in order to
stay in contact
with friends and family

“what if i don’t
have those?”
well,
then people you love, and
care about

those are synonyms
I thought

but didn’t say

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

Hypogeal

a.m is p.m
sleep schedule
backwards
eyes rubbed
red
from blinking at com
puter monitors
in dark
rm’s
thick curtains
keep the outside
from getting
in
a world of Jules Vernian
mushrooms
is pushing its way
up
through the kitchen
plumbing

ceiling is alive
with the sounds
of sonar and
leather
wings

the
treadworn carpet
is luminescent
and
all retreats
before
a thin arm
connected
to a
steady candlestick
the illumination of which
is a fragile orb
in the oppressive
dark

held
by one dreamer
who wakes
chanting curses
in circles
to scare down
the looming
draconic

unattended

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

lift

cold patio
cement
on barefeet morning
grows bright
in the
sky
cool, fresh air
enters my nostrils
the El
is clear
the fruit is mossy
I sip
black water and wait
for my
mountaintop
to carry me cross-legged
beyond the
Sea

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

amygdala in a meat-suit

you are
you know you are
we both know you know
you are
go on
carry yourself
fill your lungs with
air
you’re so beautiful

it’s ugly

we’re sorry
in your absence we
created a doppelgänger you
to amuse us
but it has become
too
obnoxious
now
that you’ve returned
your persistent destruction
of our creation
will serve
as appetizing drama,
for now

until we tire of silence
and decide to complain
that you don’t
feed
us
…again

support I
validate I
acknowledge I
in faith I
in love I
I
I
I
I
I
am a person i feel
must exist
in the minds that populate
my environments
with perfect lucidity
in the dream that i dream of
myself

despite your perspective
interpretation
of our mutually
inexclusive
realities

I will insert monuments
of my likeness
into the realms
that you habitually manifest
and refuse to be responsible
for the arguments
perpetuated
in the blind-spots
of my ignorance

and insist
that you never had time for me
that we weren’t compatible
nevermind our human similarities
this was too long
and my emotional attention
-span
is easily distracted

something,
something,
blind-spots of my ignorance
now
watch
as
I
attempt to remove the wings
from this fly
without letting him
so
much
as
question
my degree in practicing medicine

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

gray green and gold

at the extreme
distance
there
on the horizon
where the prairie meets
the slow
quiet roots
of the Rocky Mtns.
a deep gray blade
against
the sky

gold
the closer fields
of
wheat

,and green
the yard
beyond my door

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

and not myself also

tub is ready
bath is
hot
my right foot
goes in first
and it’s on
fire
but,
i’m pale and
a bit sensitive
by
the
time
my legs are submerged
i know
i’ll be pink
when i get
out

i lay back
until my ears
are below the water line
and
hum
something
that reminds me of whales

i try to imagine
anything
while my eyes are
closed
then i
get out
and stare at my body

i am pale
and pink
and fat and thin

and not myself also

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.

Three Questions

2005
I turned the t.v.
off
pawned my radio
bought a sketchbook
pencils
got serious about erasers
graphite
created
but

created nothing
.considered poetry
2007
asked myself three questions:
(1)who am i?
(2)what do i want? (3) what
can i offer another
person?
2012, became
excited
at the prospect of self
-destruction
2016, discovered
beneath
e v e r y t h i n g
there is no clear,
plausible
answer
for the first question.
the problem is
that identity and altruism
are inconsequential
neither is
in sequence
with the other
i
am a product of combination
monologue,
failure, &
discovery
i am who i choose to be
i am what i allow myself to become
i am a representation of self-idea
a construct
called identity

at present: disappeared
within the flow
of other persons

at odds with
my
escape

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.