GUEST POST // blink through stone by Cassy Single

sassafras closed her eyes
and felt the sun
it was warm and comforting
the sky was a blanket of blue
the ground a carpet of green
her eyes blinked
rays of colour from the meadow
streamed into her brain
she let herself feel
see, smell and taste
the world around her
for too long she saw anguish
smelt blood and tasted ash
it was time to come alive again
let colour seep into the black
and fill in between the lines

by CASSY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022

GUEST POST // Hide & Seek by Kelly K. Green

Are you there?
peeking around corners
tiny sausages gripping door panel
inevitable giggle ringing
in the imagination
where possibility is endless
& no one can be found

by KELLY K. GREEN
© All rights reserved 2021

project pitchfork

heaven folded in on itself
when the angels dropped like anchors
and with them all hope

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021

NFTed

Our Dear Readers,

Do you know what an NFT is? Truth be told, we barely know ourselves! (At least Tony admits this. Tati, as always, pretends to know everything like an insufferable smarty pants.) Still, let’s attempt to define this in words we can all understand.

In a way, it was easier in the good old days, back when absolutely everything was physical. Who has it. Which one owns it. That sort of thing. But now we live in a digitised world. Our personal data can be stolen, our art can be copied and printed on t-shirts without our consent, and our songs can be swiped and shared anywhere online. (By the way, have you checked your bank account today? You sure nothing is missing?)

Let us take boobs as an example. Tony, being the pervert he is, loves to draw them entirely too much. He draws a pair, posts them on Instagram, and is happy for a while with the likes and lovely comments he’s getting… and then he forgets about the post altogether. Who owns the picture now, after it has taken up residence on the internet? Tony? Everyone? No one?

NFT Delicious 3

So, anyway, let’s return to our NFT muttons. Basically, NFTs (non-fungible tokens) are digital files that run the gamut of art, sound and video, and other kinds of creative work. But while the usual digital files themselves are infinitely reproducible, the magic of NFTs can provide one with proof of ownership. In other words, if Tony creates NFT boobs, he won’t need to prove his ownership of them, and can therefore sleep peacefully. He won’t need to clutch them to his chest like oversized pearls because they cannot be snatched away.

But this is good news not only for the perverted Tony, but also for you, Dear Readers. NFTs can be used to commodify digital creations. What does that mean? It means that boobs can now be sold in an official capacity! You can buy them like they’re the Mona Lisa or sell ’em on like they’re rarest trading cards on Earth. What an historic day for boobs!

P.S. By the way, despite our crude jokes you really can buy boobs from usOf course, this is only if you happen to have a few spare coppers in your crypto-wallet.

P.P.S. No Banksy was harmed in the making of Tony’s booby collection.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021

your field of reeds

i don’t think i’d ever have been old enough
to be the equal of you in our younger days
to the fullness of all our summers i lived
i know you have tried to remember them all

and of course we could never have been forever
here merely for the term of our natural lives
the naïve hope was to simply not die
how’s not to reason why

for as long as my shadow’s here at your side
your regret will be a coma of dreaming
and that blanket of night will smother you
so that all you’ll feel is the pain of now

love is a beautiful hideous thing
i miss you my dear, and thank you for trying
if we could we’d kick the whole damn sky in
i’m nowhere forever and you’re haunted more
grief is a beautiful hideous thing
miss you my dear, and screw me for dying
but tomorrow things will work out somehow
you’ll smile again in the reeds at morningside

we thought we held all the keys didn’t we
to lock all the doors to mutual oblivion
but no matter how far and vain you wander
in this hall of echoes you’ll never find me

and of course you remain to remember now
how we railed at the stalking geist of death
though i wish i had not crumbled, dear
you should not yearn to have died with me

and you’re old enough now to be scared of forgetting
but the end, as we’ve seen, is a broad church
and the road there is an arduous song
so for now be resigned to the sunshine my dear (i won’t mind)

love is a beautiful hideous thing
miss you my dear, and screw me for flying
if we could we’d kick the whole damn sky in
i’m nowhere forever and joy will return
grief is a beautiful hideous thing
i miss you my dear, and thank you for crying
but tomorrow things will work out somehow
you’ll smile again in the sunshine at morningside

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021