Tag Archives: Poets

i can’t get enough sox

i find it hard to imagine you knitting
without tangled fingers & rage quitting
your slim fingers were made to hold glasses of wine
your nails to clear daintily between the tines
your tongue to lick oyster juice, not frayed yarn edges
your toes to sun carefree over marble ledges
your hair to smell like a honeyed summer wind
your tummy to be desired, your skin on my skin
but when i find clumsy wool socks on my pillow
you’ve placed lovingly over cottoned billow
i’m melting with affection, all florid desire
so i slip them on, pull their li’l hems higher
we drink wine, eat oysters, make love on the beach
you rather like me in socks in july’s hot reach
don’t you

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

sunday morning television

they spake from on high
& answered questions
you never even asked

they spat from on high
& they did not care
that you were bareheaded

they were three in one
a shining countenance
that burned away all souls
like an atomic bomb

to the right of them
a grinning glad lad
that entangled all minds
like a poison ivy

to the left of them
a scowling bag hag
that finagled all eyes
in a barbwire birdcage

they ruminated & belched
their stale truths & false faiths
rolled reality with cud

& so they clawed from low down
demanded their pound of flesh
to marinate in shame
& roast in atomic fire
seasoned with poison ivy

but when all was said & done
it proved a lot easier
to arise from your deep recliner
press a button, shut off the feed
you chose to kill television
& another life was saved today

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

squamating games

i don’t wanna agree just to keep the peace
don’t gotta force myself to bend to your crease
it would be better for you to desist & cease
so i’m no longer subject to your caprice

just ‘cos i’m a lady
don’t make you my superhero
just a supervillain

in other words, i would like you to sod off
before this turns into a lifelong stand-off
something ’bout your face really puts me off
like it’s not your face but some creepy knock off

please don’t call me baby
or i’ll paint the goddam walls
with your guts vermillion

i suspect you’re a lizard wearing human skin
lemme press this shotgun ‘neath your weak chin
aerate that area with some ballistic spin
get a three-pointer, dunk your head in a bin

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

the silver tongue choir

don’t consider every poet a messiah
but, rather, a pretty sounding liar
the snivelling, hysterical jeremiah
was one such example

don’t consider every poet a liar
but, rather, a pathetic pariah
who’ll burn in the almighty’s holy fire
fuelled by his urine sample

don’t consider every poet a pariah
but, rather, a copious arse licking choir
worshipping elites with sexual desire
thirty pieces of silver will be ample

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

real poets can’t count

is this a haiku
or just another tanka
we’re phoning it in
but no one answers the call
and we’re still unselfaware

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023