Five Poems by Nolcha Fox

 

My first kiss

tasted of sweat and spit

a one-star restaurant.

 

I am master

of nothing

and my dogs know it.

 

Storm

 

Slickers are windows for raindrops to 

slide down to kneecaps and

seep through my jeans.

Slipping and

splashing, I

stomp into

puddles. I’m

soaked by the time I get home.

 

If sleep was an elevator

 

I would be stuck between floors,

pressing all the buttons,

calling for help. But help never comes.

I crawl out somehow, isn’t it a dream?

Or a nightmare?

The emergency lights in the halls

I wander, flicker, strobe.

the doors are all locked,

no doorknobs, I pound them,

they’re rubber.

 

If sleep was an elevator,

I’d take the stairs.

 

Fork

 

Two roads before me,

both carpeted with dead leaves,

gloomy under gnarled trees.

I don’t know where they go,

I bet the destination

is the same. Or not.

Does it even matter?

I stab my apathy sandwich

with this fork in the road.

 

Nolcha Fox -Nolcha’s poems have been curated in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Alien Buddha Zine, Medusa’s Kitchen, and others. Her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominee for 2023 Best of The Net. Editor for Open Arts Forum and Chewers & Masticadores. Accidental interviewer/reviewer. Faker of fake news.

Website: https://bit.ly/3bT9tYu   Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/ 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/FoxNolcha   Medium: @nolchafox_14571