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Originally posted on Crumpled Paper Cranes: say hello to the girl at the grocery store. she grabs the brand of milk you use :: all-time favorite frosted wheaties soaking in a chilled bowl of soy. you are the boy, avoided. the aisle persists in its wide declaration – your footprints following sighs and the ragged… Read more
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Originally posted on Poetry Out West: Ms Necessity, negates a decision to go left or right, preferring to stay on course crash landing her way through one of those flourescent white barrier’s that sneaks up in your headlights, at the end of a long road. She chooses to wipe herself out by launching into a… Read more
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Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective: by Nathan McCool I gather up abandoned bottles kissed with cherry lipstick and cigarette scents – bring them to my lips and eavesdrop on the white noise inside. “Come on back in, one more time, for the encore of “The Butcher Boy”; come in for the closed viewing of… Read more
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Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective: by Basilike Pappa It said sleep / the voice said / slide into / me / like a fish / in water the voice said / dreamless / I’ll catch you / just sleep it said / you’re tired and / it’s time to / sleep. Like this /… Read more
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Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective: Post-Partum Depression There’s been no birth but I am suffering from post-partum depression. Do you know the feeling? Something’s been taken away. I am a passéiste; I do not have my eye on the next thing. In the garden, the Delphiniums are in flower. We’ll do everything together; we’ll… Read more
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Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective: What if i recklessly wrote three or four poems a day and sent them into the void of cyberspace where anyone from my little brother to my exes could read them until i was picked clean like the carcass of the rotisserie chicken my aunt sent me home with… Read more
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Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective: When I stand on her footprints my shoe engulfs them, but the memory swarms across me like low autumn shadows. Her goosebumps are Braille to me, without them I am blind. Without my fingertips dancing across her arms, and down her back, I am lost. I live for touch… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 