the black stains
of morning coffee
on a white tablecloth
others prefer fortune telling
with coffee grounds
but i believe in vapour
& its aerial butoh dance
above the cup’s abyss
forbearance sucks
& gravitas falls
on the white tablecloth
i see bare, broken twigs
against a blue sky
will this coffee be the only darkness
that fills me today
i take a sip, open my news feed
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2025
i’ve wandered far from the shadow where i fell
‘tween the rotted roots of concrete monuments
& the ever glacial drift of meaning
they call me cottonmouth behind my back but
who among can boast of less complicity
or with forethought exercise restraint
& concede that less could be more
at least i’ll admit i am not here to teach you
so learn for yourselves of the self & its value
in this late stage cage of crumbling margins
they call me cottonmouth behind my back but
who among comprehend the half-life of aeons
or can find wisdom so thoroughly hidden
& concede the point without the question
i’ve wandered far from the shadow where i fell
‘tween the monetised myths & wholesale burnings
& the never-ending grift beyond meaning
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023
in darkness he went down
in a braille of feet and saltwater sand
to the sea awayed he
from the so-called promised land
who would be torn if not he for he
for the span of what was and never would be
his tears only added to the plan
a gram worth nothing, impotent man
in silence he laid down
under veil of nori and saltwater cran
to the sea awayed he
from a post-coital life spent in remand
who would mourn if not he for he
for the span of what was and never would be
his fears only added to the plan
a gram worth nothing, impotent man
child of god
he prayed for something good and true
slave of god
swallowed instead by the reckoning blue
in parentheses he drowned
into vale of drib and saltwater dram
to the sea awayed he
from the parochial feckoning hand
who would have borne if not he for he
for the span of what was and never would be
his tears and fears added to the plan
a gram worth nothing, impotent man
child of god
he begged for something good and true
slave of god
swallowed instead by the beckoning blue
child of god
into a sea of no avail
slave of god
to the reckoning sea travailed he
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019
unbolt me 