event horizon

misanthrope’s been afraid all along
even tho’ he’s been feigning strong
has it not all been said before
look, a tower; look, a flower
something about the balance of power

no one listens that needs to repent
& no one’s yelling that needs to dissent
we’re all cooked as the world flames on
& now he’s wondering who left the gas on

he sees there’s no sea change coming
while others pledge to hate & kill
& just one more messianic stare
ought be enough to tip him off the edge
of a sanity pilling with unicorns

he suspects our god is flawless evil
that mercy’s become the devil’s trade
how long ’til the sun peeks over the yardarm
’til mankind swaps out the blood for gin

has this ship of fools sailed merry away
away off the edge of yesterday
where messiah’s blood was not asked for
nor its spiteful resurrection
misanthrope has his life by the noose

between an ocean & fire
here at the point of no return
look, a tower crushes the flower
sanity’s pilling with unicorns

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

Tumblevision #29

Screaming in silence.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

fire, water & trumpet spiders

rains fell three days & three nights
like vertical static on a screen
obscuring the grandeur of creation
in a two-bit nature documentary

& suddenly the sun jumped in
like popcorn prancing in a pan
then orange he rose from the dead
a cameo for more residuals

applause thundered two days & nights
spotlights lanced the morose sky
sweeping like kaiju porcupine quills
in arcs of foreboding adoration

& suddenly a bollocking trumpet
as he ascended & then returned
in armani white on a horse to fight
for the christian fascist tech bro cause

coins clinked for one day & that night
ledger filled with sleight of crypto handwriting
vengeful, he smote everything in sight
& stomped with feet burnished bronze

& suddenly there was famine for all
worth about thirty pieces or less
of dignity bought & sold & told
to shut up & worship the trumpian fold

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

tumbleweed

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