bosom garden

i hid a frosted rosehip in my jacket pocket
and dreamt one day it would bloom on my chest
warmed through from its roots around my heart

and i dreamt i would walk for days
and i dreamt i would show them all
the expansive allure of my love

i would protect its fragile petals from the chill
of unkind eyes and the grasp of repressive hands
warmed instead from the light of open hearts

and i dreamt i would walk for gays
and i dreamt i would show het al
the expansive allure of love

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

Oopsies, Boobies & Course Corrections

Dear Readers,

We live in strange times where someone may buy a vibrator for tapping a hamster rather than for—ahem—perfectly innocent guilty pleasures. And ChatGPT can go on a rampage and generate blisteringly hateful… well, hate speeches instead of generating gluten-free cookie recipes. In short, you have lions laying down with the lambs and lambs shanking anything that moves. Anything that looks like it could be gentle fun only turns out to be more creepy and violent than originally anticipated.

All that preamble to say that we’ve arrived at a rather momentous decision… well, momentous for us and probably yawn-inducing for anybody else. Still, we feel that we must pester you about it because we like being annoying. It’s our thing. We are the kind of duo that puts a slavish amount of effort into our writings. We even spend an ungodly amount of hours looking for the best words—ALL the best words—to put into said writing, and we wreck our very brains for the coolest titles. We’re a sick pair, we are. Truly sick in the head.

But even with all of that, there was a point where we foolishly decided that this wasn’t enough and that the addition of wicked cool pictures to our deliberately chosen words would bring us more attention. Naturally, we preferred human made art wherever possible (yes, we still believe that Tony is a human being), but often we would choose the path of least resistance and use AI generated art instead. It was fun for a while, and even seemed pretty danged awesome, but this later mutated into a rather unexpected burden because… well, we just needed to get a visual something, a visual anything, for every upcoming post. And not to mention our growing awareness of the ethics—or lack of—swirling around the production of AI art. That got us wondering if we wanted to be perceived as art thieves in the online space or as the creative geniuses we like to pretend we are. We felt this cognitive dissonance growing inside us like mould on a fungus cake, but lumbered on through the months just following the same old path because we felt it was what worked best for us.

But the time has come. When we began to discuss this, we were surprised to find how closely our visions of unbolt.me’s future aligned. So, we decided to go back to how Unbolt Me used to be, nothing but a gaggle of words and a paucity of pictures on a (borderline racist) white page! You, Dear Readers, didn’t seem to mind that before, so we’re hoping that you won’t mind all over again. Yes, we wouldn’t mind if you didn’t mind. That’s all we’re saying.

During the coming days, we are going to make a spring cleaning (though it’s summer for Tati and winter for Tony… hee hee hee!) and get rid of all the AI generated stuff on Unbolt Me. After this, we’ll add ‘This is an AI free site!’ to our header, and you can be assured that all the shit and fuckups that remain will be purely our own. Consider us the Amish of the blogosphere, if you will. But without beards, bonnets and the mandatory noonday prayers.

Anyway, that’s all we wanted to tell you. We’re going to have a cup of tea and a lie down now.

Toodles!
Your Tati & Tony

P.S. And, yes, we added ‘Boobies’ to the title just to get your attention. 😉

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

TROTTERSVILLE #6

You can find TROTTERSVILLE #1 here > Ba Dum Tish!

by TONY SINGLE & TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024

TATI’S TRANSLATIONS // Young Ukrainian Poets: Mariia Lyshen

Tati Translates Mariia Lyshen

Literary classics aren’t always created by the greying elder statesmen and women of the writing world. You know the ones. They’re all wise and wrinkly and impassive, and woe betide the scholar who dares mount an honest critique of their bodies of work.

You see, literary classics are also written by upstart youngsters. These youngsters are full of vitality and creativity. They live fully awake and fully aware during these very difficult times. Nothing escapes their notice and they’re unafraid to share what they really think. They walk among us right now, breathing, smiling and crying, loving and hating, experiencing the full range of their humanity without apology.

This series presents names that you won’t find in textbooks or on Wikipedia, but these are the very youngsters who are creating modern Ukrainian literature right now. Trust us, you will want to check them out because it’s only a matter of time before they become household names. When we go back to these writers in two hundred years, we have no doubt that they’ll be mentioned in the same breath as luminaries such as Taras Shevchenko and Lesya Ukrainka.

Untitled

When you have no idea what to do –
Burn your notes.
Burn your notes.
And tear apart the drawings where you’re
A girl cosmonaut.
Toss out the windows those foreign books
Your daddy brought from Cuba.
Look for yourself, you look for self
At a landfill.
Though it’s hot!
Though it’s wet!
Though your knees are shaking!
Though you feel like a painful ruin!
Though you’re mere sea foam!
Though a ghost, though half human –
Life isn’t enough to comprehend
That you’re alive.
Adjust your tie,
Get up and go and pay existence’s taxes.
When you come back –
Burn your notes, again.

Без назви

Коли що робити не матимеш гадки –
Пали нотатки.
Пали нотатки.
І рви малюнки, на яких ти
В ролі космонавтки.
Жбурляй із вікон іноземні книжки,
Що з Куби привіз татко.
Шукай себе, себе шукай
На сміттєзвалищі.
Хоч жарко!
Хоч вогко!
Хоч тремтять коліна!
Хоч ти болючая руїна!
Хоч ти всього лиш моря піна!
Хоч привид, хоч напівлюдина –
Життя замало, щоб пізнати,
Що ти жива.
Розправ краватку,
Вставай і йди платити за буття податки.
Потім повернешся –
І знов пали нотатки.

Original poem by MARIIA LYSHEN
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA

© All rights reserved 2024

mariana

one day the currents will turn around
the waters will carry the ocean floor
the foam will meet the impossible sky
make rainclouds in the realm of angels

vociferous sirens will hymn to gods
rake their tails o’er thorny sea stars
and soldier crabs will one day return
in battalions from know-not-where

it’s all rolling away
into much stranger days
and the deeper trenches
of mariana

splendour sand kingdoms will rise and fall
leave wet traces of their past greatness
folded into eddies of possibility
many of which ne’er before conceived

whole universes to curl into shell
that i press so gentle to your tiny palm
a nautilus distillation of dreams
a whispering promise of endless scenes

it’s all rolling away
into much stranger days
and the deeper trenches
of mariana

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024