pariah hymne

here we go again
peering over the edge of time
vultures dancing in the air
above the slain ones in the grime
we’d trodden with the angels
but then they’d gone and left us behind
absconding on hoverboards
no mortal could keep pace with their kind

“don’t trust the bastards!”
so say we all, “beware them all!”
celestial traffic, superlunary scrawl
stay hungry, stay foolish
all barefoot and tall at the mafficking mall
“we’ll jive! we’ll survive!” so say we all!

so, we raise our hands
in the sign of the devil’s antlers
we hope he’ll give us a lift
us ethereal gallivanters
instead, we get struck down
by the balls of his carronade banter
but we’re used to being ditched
crumpled, we embrace a new mantra

“don’t trust the bastards!”
so say we all, “beware them all!”
celestial traffic, superlunary scrawl
stay hungry, stay foolish
all barefoot and tall at the mafficking mall
“we’ll jive! we’ll survive!” so say we all!

here goes time again
peering over the edge of us
worms lancing through the grime
‘neath the spent casings and arquebus
leaving angels and demons behind
we sink bayonets with gravitas
into the ground, say with resolve
“we’ll abide in this temporal annulus”

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

ACROSTIC POETRY // Droid Antediluvian

Perambulation is something that featured a lot in Iron Uncle’s
Upbringing. His travelling oilcan never once dried up.
Rarely did his joints give out or his suspension develop clanky carbuncles.
Geez, he skipped up hill and down dale like a pumped-up pup!
And did you know he could bench press a thousand Tiny Tins if he really wanted to?
Tinderellas were thrilled with his seductive cast-iron buns.
Oh, if only he could return to those halcyon days and youth anew,
Rekindle what used to be instead of chased for conversion by rumpty nuns.
Years roll past like parts on a conveyor belt, and rust never sleeps.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

i may never

you died in the month of may, didn’t you
when you slipped and fell from the dead god’s hand
you knew then that you’d only led yourself astray
that silence was not the only silence

and all you could think to say
how is my life not mine
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

you’re the once and ever failure, aren’t you
you never could shine as bright as they
all crafted jewel and curated moments
superior vessels built for purpose

and all you could think to say
how are these tears divine
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

you’re the shadow that shrank behind, so you
became harrowed when tracing your heart song
and moths stole along, they ate your pockets
and then all of your dreams trailed sore away

and all you could think to say
i am the last of my kind
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

ACROSTIC POETRY // Droid Avunculate

Uncle, tell me a bedtime story!
Promise me sleep right after that?

Bearded myths say there’s a purgatory
Right after death, right after begat.
Its goddamned inmates are forever doomed to
Never succeed in finding ease of breath,
Getting sick with chronic, emotional flu,
Insides torn ‘tween flame life and ice death.

No way, Iron Uncle, do they still have human pith!
Godspeed, Tiny Tin. People are just a silly ancient myth.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018