Author Archives: Tony Single

condimentality

this is the day that divided the earth
mustard or ketchup on your hot dog?
the choice of condiment was paramount
one side wore yellow, the other side red
tension was rising like fermented dough
pretty soon it got personal, with pickles too
insults were slung with side order of onions
and a tower of babel of used paper towels
then out came the knives and other utensils
the salt and pepper shakers, and glutamate
with preservative smeared over more conflict
kept it going way past the point of sanity
this is the day that divided the earth
when the first vegan was immaculately conceived

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

ménace à trois

yeah, seagal loves putin, besties forever
see them carve it out in a heart on a tree
better still on warm bodies
& i’m sure their mutual wankery
is the one true path to enlightenment

why would they live to serve
when they can shirk all that’s deserved
shitting themselves in a shared hole
of their own making, always taking
we all know how this story goes

putin hates zelenskyy, enemies forever
see him carve it out on a nuclear tease
better still on still bodies
i’m sure his religion of geography
is the one true path to dominance

they both have skin in the game
a bit more so than you & me
yet all we can do is sit & argue
does might make right, peace less so
we all know how this story goes

yeah, trump loves trump, cahoots forever
see him carve it out on democracy
better still on nubile bodies
& i’m sure his lies & weaselry
is the one true path to supremacy

still dodging the arm of law
all we can do is cheer or boo him
& putin plays trump like a fiddle
as both try to outstrongman seagal
we all know how this fucking story goes

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

GUEST POST // Islands by Whitecatgrove

I who have known pain: You say, not this pain —
Your pain runs wider and deeper than mine.
Your pain thoroughly over-canyons mine
out-oceans mine, thrusting a fiery head
up from the mountaining deeps, your pain heaps
a new island stone by stone, bare and black,
licked by flame — your pain and mine are not the same —

to which I offer a palm and say: look.
That open sky swallows our smaller lives,
spits them out in some mightier place — or shits
them, it’s good to be humble. Look: a bird
leaf-beaked alights upon that lonely shore.
Not my bird or your bird, but its own bird,
other-bird, leading the way to fresh cliffs.

A bird brings seeds, drops seeds, shits seeds, a bird
drawn there to the heaped ruin you call yourself.
You cannot know this bird, you have always known
this bird, this holy spirit, white as the salt
in your tears. This bird nests in your pain, builds
paradise. Hope floats its coconut in,
unbidden, under that embracing sky.

by WHITECATGROVE
© All rights reserved 2024

TROTTERSVILLE #7

  • Let there be light!
  • І постало світло!

You can find TROTTERSVILLE #1 here > Ba Dum Tish!

by TONY SINGLE & TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024

timeless regret

in the beginning was false light
all hope with zero substance
in the beginning was a false start
all hopeful disqualification

where is your shining future
has zeal undershot the mark
the wooden veneer has rotted
on the springboard of your past

the guts of your journey is now
no space for before or hereafter
no time for you to distinguish
starting lines or finishing ribbons

in the end silence lays with you
deathbed’s unwanted dire love
in the end you lay with the four walls
and posters of promised yesterdays

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024