‘I spilled red wine’ and 2 more by Nolcha Fox

I spilled red wine

on your white
angora sweater,
the one you
hung in my closet
when you were
out of town.
With my husband.

I’m so sorry

the stain
wasn’t bigger.

‘Til Death

Uncle Ed died
in his recliner,
a magazine face
down on his lap.
When we moved him
the magazine fell
to reveal

an open fly
and nude ladies.

We laughed so hard,
we almost dropped him.

Finger Painting

She paints her lips red,
a rose or carnation
to sweeten the smell
of her cyanide words.
She paints her eyes blue,
a bluebell or forget-me-not
to hide the rip currents
pulling you in to drown.
She paints her skin green,
a gladiola or lady’s mantle,
to hide among the leaves
and sting.

Image by Colin Gee


Nolcha’s poems have been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Alien Buddha Zine, Medusa’s Kitchen, and others. Her three chapbooks are available on Amazon. Nominee for 2023 Best of The Net. Editor for Kiss My Poetry and for Open Arts Forum. Accidental interviewer.
Website: https://bit.ly/3bT9tYu
“My Father’s Ghost Hates Cats” https://amzn.to/3uEKAqa
“The Big Unda” https://amzn.to/3IxmJhY
“How to Get Me Up in the Morning” https://www.amazon.com/How-Get-Morning-Collaboration-Photography/dp/B0BF31V4T3/
Twitter: @NolchaF
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/