GUEST POST // Cavalry by Whitecatgrove

They say: Be afraid. I regard the nettles
with their hard sting. The toothed hawthorn. Brambles
that grab your pantleg and refuse to let go.

Songbirds strafe the mighty hawk, drive him
branch to branch, then out of the sky. A swan
flexes angel wings and breaks a man’s arm.

A pebble does not relent, nor a splinter.
Thorns of a white rose can topple a king.
They say: Be afraid but the maddened doe

lashes with sharp hooves and the hunter goes
hungry. A cavalry of geese arrives
and no nest will be raided by serpents.

by WHITECATGROVE
© All rights reserved 2025

oh my god

in the beginning
god created the queue
& placed it before a mall
there was no grinning
just shoppers in a stew
spoiling for a pre-sale brawl

& god saw that it was good
evening & morning, one day

in the beginning
god made anxieties
& placed them in a poodle
there was no trimming
just fleas & bad matting
a pentagram on its noodle

& god saw that it was good
evening & morning, two days

in the beginning
god made uncertainties
& placed them square in harm’s way
there was no winning
just wrong math, bugs & pleas
404 page, print delay

& god saw that it was good
evening & morning, three days

but the next morning
the fourth & final day
god made the reaper from dust
then gave a warning
not to get in god’s way
‘cos he could no longer be arsed

& god didn’t give a rats that it was not good
evening & morning, the reaper joined the poodle at the discount sale
& got a killer deal on a brand new nintendo switch 2

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

do the right thing

now i see that i
add not a jot of value
shall i lay me down
let them press on with their days
fruitful afore & after

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

TATI’S TRANSLATIONS // Young Ukrainian Poets: Kateryna Dashevets

Dear Readers, today we present to you the last instalment of our Young Ukrainian Poets feature. We like to believe that over time you have fallen in love with this and have therefore waited for each new post with crippling anticipation. After all, your likes and comments speak for themselves. (Our warmest wishes to Dolly whose comments especially inspired us to keep going!)

It was a fresh new breeze, our feature on young Ukrainian poets, don’t you think? Well, young, but never naïve. The war has changed the lives of all Ukrainians with one terrible, galvanising flick. The ones who yesterday enjoyed life, their first love, their first taste of booze and their first joint, are soldiers today. Our young Ukrainians took up arms and went to war to protect their Motherland from the imperialist fantasies of their crazy neighbouring lunatics. Why? To prove their right to be Ukrainians. To prove their right to simply be.

So, it is the end. But it is also the beginning. We will meet more of them soon, our young Ukrainian poets, in a new feature on unbolt.me. Stay tuned for that, won’t you?

Grecian free verse

After the divorce Hera escaped for a retreat at Argos
Swim in youthful springs, restore thoughts their chastity
Lay on an old sunbed to other women’s splashing
Who were waiting for therapeutic muds
Hiding behind sunglasses
From their housemaids
Hera thought gosh how long ago
My lands weren’t watered with bounteous and heavy rainfall
How long weren’t they fed with heat lightnings, fresh and steady winds didn’t rush
This jackass could only
Turn into a cuckoo
And grope my ass by surprise
He skimped on thunder and lightning for me
Like I skimp on mud for those hens
Quietness is broken with the clank of utensils
The clamour and laugh of soaked guests, eaten by siesta
The sacred bath is being readied for Friday’s party
Somewhere in the west of nature, away from the all-inclusive fuss
Sipping the late sun, like tequila sunrise, under the apple tree
Reclining, Zeus chills
Zeus eats ripe apples
Because this, maybe, is the only thing Hera hasn’t yet found, that he has snaffled
From the list of jointly acquired stuff
In their thousand-year marriage
And Zeus thought of course that he’s a fool and goof
How he skimped on lightning for his woman, how he scrimped on rainfall and spared the thunder
So she fed him with silence
For breakfast lunch but not for dinner
Because before their sleep they feasted with the heaviest concrete tedium
That wasn’t eaten up by erosion
Of the thousand-year Olympic marriage
Well everything’s alright Zeus snorted in his moustache
The real Hera is as she shall be
Loves violently
The Sun is down, and Zeus targets it with an apple core, like the needle of a dart
Getting 50 points, he wins and turns into a cuckoo
And flies to Argos

Давньогрецький верлібр

Після розлучення Гера втекла на ретрит до Аргоса
Скупатися у струмках молодості, повернути думкам незайманість
Лежати на старому топчані під хлюпотіння інших жінок
Які очікували лікувальних грязей
Ховатись за темними окулярами
Від своїх покоївок
Гера думала господи як же давно
Мої землі не зрошувалися щедрою й сильною зливою
Як довго не частувались вони блискавицями, як не гуляли свіжі й стійкі вітри
Він тільки й умів цей телепень
Що перекидуватись зозулею
Й хапати за дупу мене зненацька
Він для мене жалів гріму й блискавки
Як я жалію для тьоток багнюки
Тишу порушує брязкіт начиння
Гомін і сміх змоклих гостей, з’їдених сієстою
Священна купальня готується до п’ятничної вечірки
Десь на природі на заході, далеко від метушні олл-інклюзивів
Ковтаючи пізнє сонце, наче текілу санрайз, під яблунею
Напівлежачи, чілить Зевс
Зевс їсть наливні яблука
Бо це, напевно, єдине, до чого Гера не ще знає, що він дібрався
Зі списку нажитого спільно
У цьому тисячолітньому шлюбі
І Зевс звісно ж думав який він дурак і лох
Як він шкодував блискавиць для своєї жінки, як жалів розливних дощів і скупився на грім
От вона й годувала його мовчанням
На сніданок обід тільки не на вечерю
Бо перед сном вони споживали важкезну бетонну втому
Яку не роз’їла ерозія
Тисячолітнього олімпійського шлюбу
Ну все правильно засміявся собі в вуса Зевс
Гера вона така
Любить жостко
Сонце заходить, і Зевс цілить у нього огризком, як дротиком в дартсі
Вибиваючи 50 очків, він виграє й перекидується зозулею
І летить на Аргос

Original poem by KATERYNA DASHEVETS
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA

© All rights reserved 2025

elderyouth indiscretions

waking up to reality
it really shouldn’t be so hard
without your morning coffee hit
tongue feels like a rusty bollard

your bladder is full to bursting
it jolly well hurts to high heaven
you were supposed to wake at eight
but had to take a piss at seven

the pins & needles in your neck
have you concerned for your health
your rickety arsed hinged knees
fold into the declining years of self

a mind filled with yesterday’s fog
a handful of pills for breakfast
you hope they’re not addictive
& could swear you’re growing a bust

is that a dead bear on the couch
the mirror says no, look again
your birthday party begins tonight
twenty-five? try four score & ten!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA, CASSY SINGLE & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024