A Song of Ice and Fire

Tati walks into the lounge room in a swimsuit and flip-flops. A beach towel is thrown over one shoulder. Tony walks in from the opposite doorway. He’s in a fur hat and a heavy woollen coat. He’s carrying a pair of skis.

TONY: Aren’t you cold?

TATI: Aren’t you hot?

They look at each other with suspicion.

TONY: Do I look like I’m hot?

Button is sitting in the corner, giggling. He feels like he’s about to witness something fun.

TATI: I didn’t mean if you’re sexy, dolt! Why did you encumber yourself with all this crap?

Tony lets out a deep, sad sigh.

TONY: Winter is coming. And don’t say I know nothin’, okay? I’m not Jon Snow!

Tati furrows her brow.

TATI: Who is this?

TONY: He’s a fictio—oh, never mind. What are you doing baring so much skin in the middle of winter anyway?

TATI: You’re unbelievable, Tony! Where’s your logic? A moment ago you stated that winter is coming. Now you’re saying it’s the middle of winter! Can you please pick one and stay with it?

TONY: GAH! Sorry! I guess really do know nothin’…

Button now has a tub of popcorn and a can of cola. He’s adjusting his 3D glasses as he watches this scene unfold. Tati sighs, and decides to change her tactic. She pokes her finger at a nearby wall calendar. The date is June 1.

TATI: Take a hint, Tony. Please.

TONY: Oh! Okay. It’s the beginning of winter then.

Tati gawks at Tony with great surprise. She hadn’t expected that heatstroke could have such a deep effect on someone.

TATI: You should lie down, Tony. I will call a doctor to come and check your head.

Tati swipes the can of cola from Button’s feeble clutches, and pours the contents over Tony’s head.

BUTTON: What the fuck?

TONY: What the FUCK?!

TATI: Did it help? I can add popcorn!

Button hides the tub of popcorn behind his back.

TONY: NO! GODDAMMIT!

Tony runs around in circles, rubbing his hair vigorously with his hands. He’s trying desperately to get it dry.

TONY: So freaking COLD. I need a warm towel! My kingdom for a warm towel!

Tati takes the towel from her shoulder and flicks it toward him.

TONY: Oh my god. Is that… effervescence I’m feeling? What if the bubbles get absorbed into my brain?

TATI: Then I hope it will revitalise your dried brain a little bit. And that you finally realise it’s bloody SUMMER.

TONY: Summer? SUMMER?! It’s so bloody cold I could snap an ear off, use it as an ashtray, and it still wouldn’t thaw!

Tati turns to whisper to Button.

TATI: Call the mental health facility. Tony is having a fit.

TONY: It’s winter! WINTER! Do you see me shivering here? I’m blue, for freak’s sake! I’m as blue and shaky as Epileptic Smurf! Button, call the mental health facility! Tati’s a raving lunatic! She thinks it’s summer!

Button rolls his eyes and does the ‘cuckoo’ sign at both Tati and Tony. He then takes some popcorn and…

Intrigued? Just click here to read the rest. It won’t hurt. Nor will it bankrupt you. We promise!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

not your bitch

we wandered through peep shows, all with a glass floor
pulled down our skirts for the pervs looking up
we got used to the shame, this tedious chore
like our golden coffers were made to corrupt

we ground their laurel wreaths to brew bitter tea
and claimed the remains to make new storied crowns
we were the stars of their voyeuristic spree
carousing soma of feminal renown

we were prostrate matriarchs with pride intact
and their fire loins only provoked us all
we were by far the best, putting on an act
to tempt them and fool them, to give them blue balls

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

Dog Nights (Postcard Set #5)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

never wake

it feels like i’m falling away
like you don’t want me to care
then tell me, why am i here
tell me why i’m anywhere

all that i’ve held onto
i guess it doesn’t mean a damn
fain just let me disappear

the nothing i had, you burned it all
so at least let me be warmed a little while
gift me a last unbeholden smile
then tell me why, why won’t i die

all that i’ve clung onto
i guess it isn’t worth a damn
fain just let me disappear

it feels like you don’t want me to feel
i’m the face you’ve unseen behind the door
don’t tell me to dry my tears
don’t tell me anything at all

everything you said
was all i ever knew
everywhere i trod
was to keep pace with you
everything i felt
now everything imbued
i’ve never needed you more
to enslave myself to you

you’re the stone that weighs within me
beneath this binding arc of decay
lo, i am death, lo, i am sleep

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

BUT IS IT POETRY? // the last mission (fel-de-se)

bird pierced horizon
somewhere between trees and clouds
spilling rainy nails

a man in a hood
hopes to join them tomorrow
stuffing a nail bomb

1265542358_ornament

TONY: So, Tati, are you advocating terrorism now?

TATI: Huh?

TONY: A man in a hood stuffing a nail bomb. That’s pretty potent imagery right there, my friend.

TATI: And where’s the logic, my friend? Is everything I see something I advocate and enjoy? Is this the case for you?

TONY: Well, no, but I didn’t write a poem about it. It seems like something that was on your mind at least…

TATI: But you write about masturbating and depression. I don’t think you’re fan of such activities.

TONY: I’m a fan of one of them, but yeah, I take your point. So, what was your intention when you wrote this poem then?

TATI: A fan? Do you like depressive shit?

TONY: You’re dodging the question. No fair!

TATI: And everyone pretends that they don’t get you’re a fist fucker.

TONY: Ahem. I think we were talking about you and terrorism, not my sexual proclivities!

TATI: Next question, Jerry.

TONY: My name’s not Jerry!

TATI: Gosh, Oprah, you’re as dull as a holey galosh.

TONY: Oh, thank you so very much. That’s a lovely goddam thing to say! Jesus.

TATI: A galosh in glasses.

TONY: Fine. I’m a galosh in fucking glasses. This interview is over!

TATI: Really? Okay, Oprah. Then till next time, take care of yourselves and each other!

TONY: Jerry Springer signs off with that. Not Oprah! And there’s only one of me here!

TATI: Aw, boo hoo hoo! Go to Oprah!

TONY: What the hell?! Tati, are you stuck between TV channels?

TATI: Shall I punch you goodbye?

TONY: What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been acting like a… well, a terrorist!

TATI: Aw, Tony, don’t you see I’m trying to raise our readership? Your dull interviewing technique would send even my grandma to sleep in two seconds flat!

TONY: Oh, so you’re proposing to thump each other over the head with our chairs, is that right? That’s your grand solution?!

TATI: And what is your proposition?

TONY: I don’t know. None of this has gone the way I planned. I think I might just go and take a nap.

TATI: Typical Tony!

TONY: What? What have I done now?

TATI: Just go. Meanwhile, I will think of the next ‘But is it Art?’ questions.

TONY: Don’t expect me to be a cooperative interviewee then. Feh!

Dear readers, don’t touch that dial… and stay tuned for more!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018