wormwood prayer

left behind
made level with the ground
this here is the zone of alienation
where our fleece was seared away
down to tender demon skin by
the afterburn

never were we made faithful
in your estimation
threaded instead down to the bone by
a tension of splayed tendons
hung out for worm & shame as
an afterthought

innocence is overrated
we guilty revere nothing
yet somehow still we yearn to fly

made to unspool here for why
have you ever feigned to care
fain have we not followed you true
& so our anima taps another vein
to scry beyond the sky for when
providence might let our carcass die

left behind so
make room for we in our dead life
afterburn so
torched earth abide our scattered bones
an afterthought so
let’s be real, call it empathy on fire

innocence is overrated
we guilty revere nothing
yet somehow we will learn to fly

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

all-american

don your ranchin’ hats
& egos big as texas
clacky bone spur clack
red white & blue howdy do
how proud your mamas

shoot from the hip, boys
show ’em loud how real man does
ding them plank & nuts
dominate with all-day wood
how proud your mamas

the sick & the dead
yee’all off your goddam heads
the sick & the dead
rootin’ tootin’ off the ledge
how proud your mamas

wear them freedom sores
bear each one with conviction
yell & discognate
boycott thems transgender mice
how proud your mamas

all shart of the deal
quake that emo veepee couch
fellute the muskrat
kiss his orange anal ring
how proud your mamas

the sick & the dead
yee’all off your goddam heads
the sick & the dead
rootin’ tootin’ off the ledge
how proud your mamas

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

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

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

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