casus belli bum

yesterday there was a ruckus
in the tailless monkeys’ workshop
they were apes by any other name
but their bare rumps exposed them to shame

so the monkeys began a feverish search
for those to whom they could pin the blame
the cognitive dissonance
was strong in these monkeys’ minds
and they issued a press release
to call out the suspected beakless geese
who must have plucked the monkeys’ tails
to cover up their revealed mouth crease

then the monkeys went from words to deeds
constructed a bunch of bent clay dicks
strapped them to each startled face
of the entire beakless geese race
then the monkeys took photos of them all
and uploaded the images to myspace

happy that justice had finally prevailed
the monkeys hit the pub to celebrate
but also forgot that they’d left the kiln on
so the workshop blew high like it’d been bombed

and now the bare bum monkeys are bankrupt
with no workshop, and as for the geese? well…
…they now paint clay dicks to look like putin
and sell them off as souvenirs to ‘unfriendly countries’

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022

the fallout

when finally the winter’s regime
hugged with a gentle vise
once the hectic mainstream
got locked in a stasis of ice

a roar swelled from slander
antheming to sacred shit
both turned into frozen meander
adorned with a bilious split

prickly slush wrapped up tighter
rhetoric and gagged criticism
like a pearl torn from the peak of a mitre
the globe rolled down a glaring schism

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2022

GUEST POST // Tired by Noelle

a body
filled with organs,
bones, muscles, tissues,
and a whole lot of issues,
yet i still feel so empty.
no protein, no creatine
no caffeine, no adderall
has given me enough energy
to have emotions
without feeling small.
even though my emotions
have always been intense
growing up i tried my hardest
to hide them and now
I’m left with the damage.

by NOELLE
© All rights reserved 2022

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Spring by Alfred Lichtenstein

 A certain Rudolf called out:
I have eaten too much.
Whether it’s healthy is very questionable.
After such a greasy lunch
I really feel uncomfortable.
But I belch beautifully and smoke
Cigarettes now and then.
Lying on my heavy belly,
I chirp nothing but songs of spring.
Longingly, as though on a ramp
The voice squeals from the throat.
And like an old lamp
The wind blackens the bitter soul.

by ALFRED LICHTENSTEIN (1889-1914)
Public Domain Poetry

i choose life

i walked through death’s door
and i kicked the reaper in the nuts
he was quite surprised
and even dropped his scythe
with a pained sigh

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022