TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Dog. by Oliver Herford

The Dog is black or white or brown
And sometimes spotted like a clown.
He loves to make a foolish noise
And Human Company enjoys.
The Human People pat his head
And teach him to pretend he’s dead,
And beg, and fetch and carry too;
Things that no well-bred Cat will do.
At Human jokes, however stale,
He jumps about and wags his tail,
And Human People clap their hands
And think he really understands.
They say “Good Dog” to him. To us
They say “Poor Puss,” and make no fuss.
Why Dogs are “good” and Cats are “poor”
I fail to understand, I’m sure.
To Someone very Good and Just,
Who has proved worthy of her trust,
A Cat will sometimes condescend—
The Dog is Everybody’s friend.

by OLIVER HERFORD (1863-1935)
Public Domain Poetry

afore

the tomb is empty
yet i am not

god has found a new place

your tent, my soul, lord
your tent, my soul

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2008

after

like a bucket i’m kicked
on the ground all around
until i spill a river of tears

empty now

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2008

foam & exile

many moons ago
where the sands meet the grey sea
the moose left footprints
leading nowhere & beyond
the call of glowering gulls

where were they going
how were they so far from home
who will ever know

many suns ago
when we did not fear the waves
we left a kelp chain
‘tween the sand dollars & jags
& the smell of iodine

where were we going
dull heavens in place of home
keys sunk in the sea

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

event horizon

misanthrope’s been afraid all along
even tho’ he’s been feigning strong
has it not all been said before
look, a tower; look, a flower
something about the balance of power

no one listens that needs to repent
& no one’s yelling that needs to dissent
we’re all cooked as the world flames on
& now he’s wondering who left the gas on

he sees there’s no sea change coming
while others pledge to hate & kill
& just one more messianic stare
ought be enough to tip him off the edge
of a sanity pilling with unicorns

he suspects our god is flawless evil
that mercy’s become the devil’s trade
how long ’til the sun peeks over the yardarm
’til mankind swaps out the blood for gin

has this ship of fools sailed merry away
away off the edge of yesterday
where messiah’s blood was not asked for
nor its spiteful resurrection
misanthrope has his life by the noose

between an ocean & fire
here at the point of no return
look, a tower crushes the flower
sanity’s pilling with unicorns

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025