are you worse than everyone else?

metropolises are so fucking prepared
for loneliness
every park and every embankment
every wet bench up an empty avenue
these are for your disposal

you are worse than others if
they choose them rather than you but
what about if
they do choose loneliness rather than you?
are you worse than everyone else?

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2021

ABSURDIS EXTREME // Case Study #6,027 [23/04/1998] by B.A. Loney

This is the story of my unfortunate and very short career in Hell. I hadn’t planned on visiting, let alone living there, but life will often throw these little surprises at you. It was so surprising that I forgot to pack some suntan lotion. And, sure, while there’s no actual sun in Hell, the Earth’s molten core may as well be the same thing.

Someone said I was lucky to be leaving the boondocks as they were miles from the nearest telephone or free WiFi—or pretty much anything really. That someone said I’d be moving to a place where hot water in the shower was no problem. That’s right. Hot water in Hell was actually hot, not like the lukewarm piss that dribbled down your face back where I came from. As a connoisseur of bathroom facilities, this was all I needed to clinch the deal.

So, no suntan lotion but plenty of hot water. What could go wrong? Well, plenty as it happens. I hadn’t counted on the natives. Those fucking feral natives! They were… well, strange. And not only because they wore iridium rings in their nostrils and braided chest hair. Nope. It was something else. It was the fact that they wore open business jackets and aviator goggles, but no pants. And they’d fly over you with those huge, leathery wings in the hopes of landing a huge shit on your head. What fucking weirdos!

Also, they were eager wranglers—like they’d been watching too many cowboy movies. I would even say it was their cacoethes (fancy word there). Firstly it scared me, then it became merely rather irritating. Being shat on then lassoed and transported to another postcode in Hell would really put a crimp on anyone’s day. The psychotic bastards just couldn’t help themselves! But I did eventually get used to it—strange as it soundsand even realised that I could turn this to my benefit. That’s right, I eventually figured out that I might be able to use them as free transportation to work and back instead of dialing an Uber. All I had to do was steer them like I was paragliding or something. Sure, they’d probably shit on you the entire way but all I’d need to do is wear a disposable raincoat and hat to compensate for this, and change into my work uniform when I arrived at the office.

Of course, you’re going to ask how any of this concerns science. Well, it has a direct and vital correlation with science! My top priority when I accepted the offer from Hell was not hot water and free transport (even though these tipped me over into saying yes). No, it was the chance to join an unique project where the most talented scientists from throughout time—from Jabir ibn Hayyan to Ortizphine Hunterpin CCCXXV—would study the cellular dehydration and osmoreceptor stimulation of Pompeii worms. Any true intellect would eat their own hat with a side order of fries from envy!

Such a pity that I never made it there. To work, I mean. It turns out that steering a batshit crazy demon just isn’t possible. It’s like trying to wrestle a rabid wolverine towards an anger management class. So, I would spend hours trying to reach my destination, only to end up nosediving into the roof of somebody’s house—all while covered in shit, of course. Can’t forget the shit!

So naturally, I was soon kicked back up to Earth for my constant tardiness. Scientists prefer it if you’re punctual. Bureaucracy is hell, man!

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021

blowing horn

shadows played out on the wall of days
sand hissed from the dead giant’s ear
i did its mind like a line of cocaine
(blood of the polterchrist compelled me)
then a unicorn defied what we thought we knew
wrecked itself on all we’d formerly eschewed

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

PERFECTION IN ACTION // In the Eye of the Beholder

I peered at a blot on the wall. It peered back at me, not blinking.

I didn’t realise that blots had eyes, but then this was no ordinary blot. As such, I wanted to get to know it better. Hell, I wanted to ask it out on a date but I guess it would’ve been considered a little odd for a gal to be attracted to a random abstract mark on a vertical structure—no matter how good looking the mark was!

A vagrant who was stepping away from the wall—zipping his dirty jeans—looked at me with surprise.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021

mosh pit eye

this is our way
the only way
you have to jump with us
or stand without a clan
don’t fancy jumping?
then sing!
wail like a cat in heat
or stand alone in the street

this is our way
the insanest way
jump and wail with us
or stand alone with your gran
don’t fancy singing?
then bang!
mix sweat and blood and beat
or stand alone and miss a treat

this is our way
the violent way
jump the shark with us
or stand apart you boob man
don’t fancy sharking?
then drop dead!
lay and suck on angel teat
as we trample you with our feet

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021