Running
My feet are running
as fast as they can
while I go nowhere
on this machine.
My nose is running
as fast as it can,
faster than this tissue
can catch it.
I’m running out of money,
my wallet is much thinner.
I’m running out of time
to pay my taxes.
Paint is running
as fast as it can,
blending together,
streaks of purple and green.
I’m running, going nowhere,
while snot runs on my wallet,
while the paint runs off the canvas,
and time runs away from me.
Learning the Hard Way
I’m sorry
I used
laundry spray
to fry your eggs.
I thought
I grabbed
the cooking
oil spray.
I’m sorry
I slid on wet
concrete
and ruined
my dress.
Sidewalks
aren’t good
water slides.
I am just
a sorry mess.
If there’s a
hard way to learn,
I’ll find it.
Nolcha Fox has written all her life, starting with poop and crayons on the walls. But she didn't begin writing poetry until age 67. A year later, over 100 of her poems were published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Alien Buddha Zine, Medusa’s Kitchen and others. Her chapbook, “My Father’s Ghost Hates Cats,” is available on Amazon. Her chapbook, "The Big Unda," is available now on Amazon. (Making up for lost time.)
