Four Micropoems by Nolcha Fox

Frosted
I fill in what I cannot see
with my dark imagination.
Back light lets me guess the tale
behind your hidden features.
If only I could see you whole,
I’d probably be quite bored.
Daylight takes the mystery,
and leaves the moles
and pimples.
***

Mona Lisa
She sits so still and watches all
the people in the room.
Some distracted, some agog
at her eternal beauty.
She is preserved with gas
and glass to keep her ever lovely.
Her smile is no mystery.
She knows it’s almost closing.
***

That Second One
Of all the boats lined up to float
upon the tiny river,
I’d love that second one 
to let me bob in end of summer.
Soon the winds will blow, and all
the boats will drift to cover.
They’ll reappear when spring
begins parades of boats
through water.
***

Follow the Trail
If you want me, 
follow the mascara tears,
pumps filled with 
blisters and calluses,
fake diamond rings, 
cheap drugstore perfume,
and a misplaced wallet.
Do you like what you see
when I’m ordinary me?
***
© Nolcha Fox 
Buffalo, WY, USA
nolchafox@yahoo.com

Nolcha Fox’s poems have been curated in print and online journals. Her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominee for 2023 and 2025 Best of The Net, 2024 Best of the Net Anthology. Nominee for a 2023 Pushcart Prize. Visual Editor for Chewers by Masticadores.
Website: https://nolchafox2.wixsite.com/nolcha-s-written-wor/blog 
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nolchafox/ 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/ 
Medium: @nolchafox_14571

Three Micropoems by Nolcha Fox

Juice

Every word a tiny knife

that slashed deep chasms

in her skin.

The day squeezed grapefruit

in the cuts, and how 

they burned, they burned.

□

Dangling

Conversations swim away.

I try to lure them with a worm

that dangles, wiggles,

doesn’t catch a thing.

□

What He Is

He is a sonic boom

wrinkling my walls.

He is a disco ball

reflecting the sun.

He is a bullet

searching for the sky.

He is an oil slick

evading the record of his misdeeds.

□

[A note by poetess Nolcha Fox :-

Thanks to Carly M Cherry’s poem, "They Tried to Race the Moon" for some of the words and images I used.]

© Nolcha Fox 

Buffalo, WY, USA

nolchafox@yahoo.com

Poetess Nolcha’s poems have been curated in print and online journals. Her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominee for 2023 Best of The Net. Editor for Open Arts Forum, Chewers & Masticadores, Garden of Neuro. Accidental interviewer. Fake news faker.

Website: https://bit.ly/3bT9tYu

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/ 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/FoxNolcha

Medium: @nolchafox_14571

Eggs, a Micropoem by Nolcha Fox

I am a womb of scrambled eggs,

a yolk beaten into a chick,

an empty nest denying 

I float on water,

roe swimming out of caviar,

a fish net over the moon,

a moon in the womb,

a womb of scrambled eggs.

□

© Nolcha Fox 

Buffalo, Wyoming, USA

nolchafox@yahoo.com

Poetess Nolcha’s poems have been curated in print and online journals. Her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominee for 2023 Best of The Net. Editor for Open Arts Forum, Chewers & Masticadores, Garden of Neuro. Accidental interviewer. Fake news faker.

Website: https://bit.ly/3bT9tYu

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/ 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/FoxNolcha

Medium: @nolchafox_14571