Monthly Archives: August 2018

the swansong cycle (part three): swan uprising (the war-feathered gangsta rap)

yeh yeh yeh yeh…
a’ight, swans, it’s time
lay da smackdown
lay ya eggs in crack town
yolk it up
yolk it up now

wot does it matter
who eat meat from ya bone
an encroachin’ poacher
or queen elizabeth da sheen
shit still stinks, don’t matter
point is ya’ll be prone
dead to rights, bitch
yah, time they choked on yo shiny steel bean

rise up now, yo, swans of war
spread your mofo wings, yeh
crane yo neck bling, yeh, ruffle yo wrap
gaggle and flip-flap, trigger-hap, poppin’ caps
pants shat, yeh, enact da bourne phenomenon
grab yo bauers, enact da power
dey’s goin’ down for da final dirt nap

yeh yeh yeh yeh…
a’ight, swans, it’s time
yolk it up
yolk it up now

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

the swansong cycle (part two): black swan (the piano & balalaika elegy)

desolation is just a word
desolation is just a feeling
it’s nothing to do with me
yet i cry anyway
i plan to rise above it all
one of these days

when i can fill no more
when i begin to finally pour
let this last gasp elevate me
let this last gasp make me to soar

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

the swansong cycle (part one): swansea suicide (the kamikaze karaoke death metal roar)

i’d had loads to drink and got up on stage
ready to wipe their asses with my whole life’s page
so i said “blah blah” this and all “blah blah“ that
“are you ready to be in stitches? double drat!”

“i’m the queen of the office! the boss don’t scare me!
the fucking tapeworm in her guts, not her pubic flea!
she’d better step off, man! learn her goddam place!
i’d love to see that smile slapped off her face!”

and so on i ranted in a death metal voice
feigning confidence, as though i had some choice
and then i saw her there, boss behind my workmates
while they booed and hissed like a pack of primates

but she smiled and dropped some coins into my beer mug
“if career suicide’s what you crave then your grave’s dug”
well, i know whatever happens must happen for the best
my home’s a gutter now, and i got that shit off my chest!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

100 WORD SKITTLE // Leaving the Dream (Follow-up to Living the Dream)

It came to life in an expensive arty-farty Moleskine—maybe I fancied myself as the next Hemingway. I even bought a posh Parker pen. Only the best tools, right? But as time went on and times got desperate, the Moleskine got swapped out for paper from bins and skips, and the Parker for biros I’d stolen from cheap snack-bars and post offices.

But I didn’t give up. I continued to scribble beneath dim streetlights, in dingy alleyways, and as close to the neon glow of storefronts as their owners would allow. Come hell or high water, I’d complete this book.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

THE CRUMBCAST // Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats

Look what the cat dragged in. Two old cats like us. Alley cat. Honky cat. Cool cats. Wild cats of Kilkenny.

Okay, so we’re not from Kilkenny. I’m just trying to shoehorn as many song titles with the word ‘cat’ into this introduction as I possibly can. Cats without claws. That’s probably the level we’re working at here. Listen in as Peter and I attempt to bring the conversation back to moggies, but to no avail. Yup, you could even say that we’re just playing cat and mouse with the topic! (Insert groan here.)

Come to think of it, I suppose the title of this post is a bit misleading too. There are no musical numbers, and certainly no kitties wrestling in jelly pits. Oh well, maybe next time.

PS: This is a bit strange, but if you want to listen to the sound then you should click on the picture below. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tell ya!

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018