“Burn The Polack at the Stake!”

Tyler R. Martin

When has poetry become political?
And poets devoid of emotional depth?
Why has color or creed or cock you suck or don’t
Become more about the syllables and structure and sentiment?
Does minority status a poet make? Or degree of social justice theme imbue a poem with worth?
Do you care about my sexual orientation when you read this poem?
Do you scoff at my lack of melanin?
From here I can hear you thinking
“How could Ty ever be a poet? Ty is white and white is wrong and I betcha he’s never sucked a cock,
he’s got to suck at least 50 cocks before he gets published, and some of those cocks better be black!
Hell! He’s nothing but a miserable, white, drunk! He doesn’t even take political stances! And if he did they’d likely be incorrect, his social justice score is in the tank!
Holy fuck, he might even be a natural blond!
Forget the thought of publishing, Ty, you Nazi fuck, you alcoholic, misogynistic piece of shit,
Your intolerance is intolerable!
Burn the Polack at the stake!”

“what the whole world needs”

Tyler R. Martin

Walking out of the campus library
I pass a large white poster board.
Written on top, in bold black lettering,
Is “what would you like to see more of at Farmingdale Community College?!”
I stopped to read the many bullshit replies
Of my shithead classmates:
“Better wifi. Better coffee. More inclusivity. Smaller class size. No cigarettes on campus (they stink!) Farmingdale should GO GREENER. Legalize the weed!”
But at the bottom, one pure heart of gold wrote, simply “Titties….more Titties”
With a large red heart around it.
Whoever wrote this I would elect president.
To whoever wrote that I say change nothing,
You are pure and perfect as is.
Disregard anyone who says otherwise.
I envy your wisdom.

“The Bum’s Lament”

Tyler R. Martin

Stroll ’round campus,
February, brisk,
Bukowski under one arm,
Hair wet from an
Ill conceived shower,
Grumbling, having left my
Smokes at home.
’tis not the Army, my man,
A voice whispers,
This is college, this is
Shithead country,
This is beta-males and alpha bitches
Lamenting about the plights of
People they have no want to meet.
This is the land of soy lattes and no
Cigarettes.
I have no need for tofu, guys,
Ty needs nicotine, mainlined if necessary,
Right to the fucking heart,
I don’t wanna talk about the alliance
Of gay and straight people,
Sorry, but I wanna smoke and
Sit quietly. Any takers?
No, then can I bum one?-
Confused stares all around,
Mean like cigarettes?
Sure doll, got one?
No, but I have a flier for blah blah blah…..
Fuck me…..
I hate college, everyone so health
Conscious I’m feeling sick myself,
So righteously political I’m steadily
Leaning more towards anarchism,
This is the bum’s lament,
A true Valentine Smith,
A Stranger in a Strange Land,
Lost and without a smoke.