déjà vudu

all the skeleta dansing
dansing in their skin shells again
in a world burning to the ground
stubbing their durry minds in
that ash bowl of hell they once called eden

would that you’d been a part of this
or would you have, given such souls
them resolute that turned their backs
on curiosity & knowing

three cheers to the danse
the pleasing aroma of reason charring
to the snuff of nothing above the clouds

all the skeleta dansing
a descent into backwards heights
the danse of flurried minds tonight
we’ll exist should they allow it
but don’t hold your breath

their masks full with empty fool heads
all hail the bliss of dullening
to themselves be the glory
to mine own the lost othered story

three cheers to the danse
the macabre aroma of reason charring
good that you’d not been part of this

in a garden of dimming lights & lost delights
how do they not concede the signs
all pointing away from their vaunted heaven
now, one more time

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

for sanity’s sake

here between the seasons
the drought & hoped for rains
how on earth we prevail is
a puzzle for analytical minds
we try one smile on at a time

one smile at a time
to keep that sultry darkness at bay
one smile at a time
but perhaps today is not that day
mayhap i wish to sluttily lay
in disarray like i belong
& die erelong

but life goes on
while i whore myself to ruination
& smile along with the twee
their cock-a-hoop clarity in
hopes that we might cohabitate
in peace between drought & rain

& life goes on
one smile at a time

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

a Catchy question

“Sane people don’t write
poems. Do you agree?”
I nod, “Surely!”
and think, “…rhymes with poorly.”
Colleagues esteem my good sense.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015