metropolises are so fucking prepared
for loneliness
every park and every embankment
every wet bench up an empty avenue
these are for your disposal
you are worse than others if
they choose them rather than you but
what about if
they do choose loneliness rather than you?
are you worse than everyone else?
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2021
poetry is cold and empty like outer space
like voracious cronus who devours his own sons
no matter how many verses you’ve thrown to the gorge
it burps out, calling for more
poetry is cold and empty like outer space
there are always moons where no foot may tread
no matter how loud you’ve shouted to the craters
it echoes out, calling for more
poetry is cold and empty like outer space
stellar wind drives tumbleweeds through the milky way
no matter how far you’ve overstepped the bounds
it erases out, calling for more
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2021
fallen leaves covered in hoarfrost
a puddle wrinkles like a face about to burst into tears
a kfc cup getting cold in my chilly hands
i sigh… passing by a small locked down pub
they made the best latte in our neighbourhood
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2020
at the beginning of time there was a girl
in a melamine bowl
she had no family, no friends
and was on the dole
she was sat there in a corn flake swirl
a milky, sugared doll
her belongings were mere odds and ends
oh, what a poor little soul!
her name was saoirse
though people hardly remembered
yearning between dearth and plenty
buried under stone in the garden of rasure
at noonday’s predoom was a woman cold
in a gumball machine
for the merriment of boozers
in a stinky shebeen
she would shiver nude and candy bold
a pert and tart cuisine
a laughing stock even for losers
oh, buy her a tall glass of poteen!
her name was saoirse
though people hardly remembered
yearning between dearth and plenty
buried under stone in the garden of rasure
at the end of all things there was a crone
in a bottle discarded
fighting her battles all over again
in weakness, unguarded
she inhaled a black wind through her bones
and all she’d once regarded
her last sigh was for the land of cockaigne
where life is ample tabled and lardered
her name was saoirse
though people hardly remembered
yearning between dearth and plenty
buried under stone in the garden of rasure
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
Wrinklies patients may arrange forgotten the operation, and machiavellian scars are undoubtedly overlooked in the shadowy examination room.
— MitchCheduby
Sure, darkened rooms are the current worldwide trend in the beauty industry. Not only wrinkles and scars can be fixed, but also unwanted birthmarks, crossed eyes, overbites and underbites. Nothing’s impossible. Just one flick of a switch and anyone will look young and beautiful!
— Tati & Tony (Advocates of Natural Beauty and Looking for Black Cats in a Dark Room)
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
unbolt me 