TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Sweeping The Floor. by George MacDonald

Sweep and sweep and sweep the floor,
Sweep the dust, pick up the pin;
Make it clean from fire to door,
Clean for father to come in!

Mother said that God goes sweeping,
Looking, sweeping with a broom,
All the time that we are sleeping,
For a shilling in the room:

Did he drop it out of glory,
Walking far above the birds?
Or did parson make the story
For the thinking afterwards?

If I were the swept-for shilling
I would hearken through the gloom;
Roll out fast, and fall down willing
Right before the sweeping broom!

by GEORGE MACDONALD (1824-1905)
Public Domain Poetry

hell (guitar solo)

dullened
his basswood skull
struck a discordant tone
for every wrong in memory
& less

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2026

flashdance

the lady of the lake
took off her bikini
the shellfish blushed
hid behind coconuts
her perky high beams
blinded everyone in sight
with their womanly virtues
& strontium-90-60-90

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

ask nothing

infinity
a crumb, our collective mind
from the day we are born
we’re enmired in longing
& we reach all our lives as if
our slow death has barely begun

infinity
we’re avoiding in the rain again
as it washes away the tears
past stars inert down the lane
dare we to wear our insides out
like we were ever here

who are we to hope for love
as we lift our heads above
the skies could fall any moment
how on earth are we alive

infinity
too many arks on mountains
for any of them to be the one
our jesus is nothing
our buddhas are nothing
so too our drowned expectations

infinity
it’s another god for the blind
yet we feel that white room calling
boundless, all walls fallen away
we’re dispossessed in night’s array
how heavenly the stars

who are we to hope for love
as we lift our heads above
each moment an accusation
how are we still alive

what if infinity left us blind
to vanish beneath the sands of time
& yet we hope
yet we love
we live

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

the wagenblast line

here in the shadows of bowed backs
& exotic tattoos, the late shift reeks
of brokenness & desperation
still, they wear the inside out over skin
& will not be silenced

their fingers yellowed from cheap smokes
belch & burn, cracks on their phone screens
let slip the strain on their fractured hearts
yet they wear the inside out over skin
& will not be silenced

zombie drowse, lulled by a trans voice
to reach past the binary of lost & dreams
laws forbid them but cannot unmake them
they’ll still wear the inside out over skin
& will not be silenced

hiss & shut tight, do not lean on doors
the daily commute, sisyphean loop
can’t wait to get home again tonight
keep wearing the inside out over skin
& do not be silenced

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025