Author Archives: Tony Single

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Kiss. by Robert Herrick

What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve:
The sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.

by ROBERT HERRICK (1591-1674)
Public Domain Poetry

employee of the month

the snail said sorry for not inviting you in
that it was better to talk outside
so you stacked your shoe atop the other shoe
on the stoop for ants, to go inside

gosh, such nice weather, no cloud in the sky
robins sang lustily in their trees
but you were annoyed, asked the snail why
you couldn’t go in out of the breeze

the snail winced, said they woke up real early
that their guest room was rather a mess
mould on the ceilings was making them surly
& so too the slime on their flower dress

shrugging, you decided to just do your job
handed the snail an eviction slip
who can reason with an inveterate slob
who pretends to have a tricky hip

gosh, such nice weather, no cloud in the sky
robins sang lustily under the sun
you sat on the shell, loosened your bow tie
dreamt of that bonus for a job well done

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

alcheringa

shadows throw people onto the pavement
to slip away between the cracks & furrows
to an ocean somewhere beneath the city
where sunken bones & dead dreams recriminate

with golden teeth the stonefishes greet them
such disarming smiles before they jab them
& the bubbles of hope swirl to the bottom
to be sucked clean under tectonic & sand

remember me tripping on cobblestone
remember it ripping through skin & bone
falling like alice to the antipodes

to go through that fine gravity filter
one must first relinquish personhood
& reach emersion at the far side of firma
find a meaningful death before one’s birth

in this world the shadows are disappearing
unanchored from the people we have lost
fading away, so happy, oblivious
to all suffering done, never to return

remember me tripping on cobblestone
remember it ripping through skin & bone
falling like alice to the antipodes

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Sadly, O, Sadly by Walter De La Mare

Sadly, O, sadly, the sweet bells of Baddeley
Played in their steeples when Robin was gone,
Killed by an arrow,
Shot by Cock Sparrow,
Out of a Maybush, fragrant and wan.

Grievedly, grievedly, tolled distant Shieveley,
When the Dwarfs laid poor Snow-white asleep on the hill,
Drowsed by an apple,
The Queen, sly and subtle,
Had cut with her knife on the blossomy sill.

by WALTER DE LA MARE (1873-1956)
Public Domain Poetry

cold (morning coffee without milk)

i should be alive
but i’m always waiting in the wings
what’s my line, what should i be
is there a place onstage for me

brown people are dying
i’m so fucking impotent
somebody help them
somebody better than me

i should be alive
not a white invader
not a white saviour
with thoughts such as these

people are dying
while i’m enmired in
the ‘how is this me’
& the luxury of guilt

i should be alive
improvise my own intention
reach into myself
reach out to others

we all grow old, don’t we
& wish we had more time
unless we’re brown
& then living is a crime

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025