vernal whistlestop

hey there, whistle pig
jumpin’ at your own shadow
i heard loose chatter
’bout the oracle of spring
surmisals of what you are

are you really tho’
in a world that is burning
the end at our door

hey there, whistle pig
time & season frock to you
like sacred vestments
as dictum starved rootle minds
shuttle past the hot black tar

what will you augur
in a world full of burning
the end at our door

hey there, whistle pig
when have you ever been right
flowers wilt in march
forsooth a burning april
‘neath the californian stars

have you e’er been real
in a world black with burning
the end at our door

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

moonwalks & jitterbugs

hey, rocketman, where are your wings
where are your heart-shaped sunglasses
& what are those drops of blood there
smeared along that yellow brick road
who’ll save you from critical thought
you think it’s gonna be your time
who’ll spoon-feed you zen magic now
the touchdown’s gonna smash you up

rocketman, where’s your piano
your pocketful of skimming stones
exchanged your ticket to the moon
for cheeky mooning & moonshine
who’ll grant you the life that you sought
you’ve fought so hard to make that climb
who’ll sing to you your swan song now
that splashdown’s gonna wreck you up

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

nezlamnist

yellow grain waving no surrender
in the onslaught of another storm
we will bend again, again & again
but never level to the ground

why should we rest in pieces
we demand to live in peace
we are not asking
the bear must turn & leave

we are not afraid
you try to raze us down
still we dare to stand
it’s you who are afraid now

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

TATI’s AND TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Babel by Lola Ridge

Oh, God did cunningly, there at Babel –
Not mere tongues dividing, but soul from soul,
So that never again should men be able
To fashion one infinite, towering whole.

by LOLA RIDGE (1873-1941)
Public Domain Poetry

evanescent

a husk sat in dusk
looked for traces of itself
a husk raised its voice
wailed to return to the soul
of you me they she & we

but the ground was wax
& the sky so deaf & bronze
war had melted them

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025