“Under Pressure”


“Under Pressure”

Jasmine ribbon vapors rolling through my nose.

Rolled off in the corner, are soiled pantyhose.

Little this, little that.

Mirror image, much too fat.


Focus on, but out of,


Encountering enchantments of denial.

Empty promises reprisal.

Going, going, went.

Frustration all but pent,

Up in here, up in here.

Wiping condensed steam from the looking glass dream,

Leaving behind streaks.

Compact disc repeats,

Then skips too frequently.

Applying a brave new face,

A newfound supple grace,

Over the counter.

Arm behind the back.

Falling angel here,

Skimpy underwear.

Peeking out of skinny jeans’ secret pocket.

Self-deceit, rinse repeat.

Jasmine ribbon vapors rolling through my nose.

Will my make-up pass?

Supple supposition.

Paralytic indecision,

Will my make-up pass?

You never can tell.


“Nickie Newports”

Nickie Newports, Queen of retorts.

Nine years, was nine years too long.

A Five Corners early morn beat down,

Nudged carnally dulled senses along.

A life sentence reduced to time served.

An unfortunate truth to be told,

With you, my time was oft solitary.

Thank God I got my parole.

“Enter The Days…”

“Hedgerow” ©️C.P. Hickey 2019

“Enter The Days…”

Enter the days that remind me.

Remind me of sunshine long ago.

How fresh summer days began with dappling light reflecting off of chlorine blue public pools.

The lane lines seemed to stretch onward forever.

Each stroke belied a deeper thrust at the meaning of life.

The hog’s honest truth is that death was closing in,

No matter how hard I slapped at the water with my hands and feet.

But then somehow out behind the pool, I’d get lost mixing counted sorrows against discarded bottle caps.

“Skeleton Key”

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“Skeleton Key”

Skeleton key, skeleton key,

Dangling from your waist.

My door is locked.

Please set me free.

Unlock my blushing face.

Others have tried,

To no avail.

They couldn’t open me.

My guess at best,

About the rest,

They all had faulty keys.

But, you come along,

And promise more,

With your lengthy rigid torque.

Insert into my cylinder,

And make your magic work.

My bolt and latch,

A stubborn match,

For your working key.

Persistence and pressure pay off,

And start my liberty.

The action builds,

And with a twist,

My bolt comes all but free.

You turn the knob,

Complete the job.

Leaving me open, finally.

So, if your door won’t budge,

On this we can agree,

Find yourself the freeing magic of,

A dangling skeleton key.