parallax background

Veggie Burger and 2 other poems by Nooks Krannie | #thesideshow

April 1, 2017
The Citrus Leaf Tree by Gretchen Gales | poetry |#thesideshow
April 1, 2017
Eric Cline
Gay-Man #14: How to Start Reading Comics | Eric Cline | Weekly Column
April 3, 2017


veggie burger

behaving like knives in the middle of concrete my throat is lumpy is concrete metal bells cling every time someone’s veggie burger is ready somewhere ready to meet the lump in your throat or someone flesh is only rich in sweat under stone bricks without ever tasting pizza or mozzarella sticks or sand beads that now forever live in angels angel nostrils traffic is an exaggeration of bicycles traffic makes me lusty is an exaggeration and cows too with ear piercings can chill because veggie burgers taste best grilled no offence to me cut in four pieces with knives holding me hold the ketchup.


lol ok

lol i touched a dick under your dining table lol lol it was before cake and after hysteria so i guess it’s ok i guess it can be taken in the back room lol if you have one
so the dick was ‘manly’ is that what i should say? is that what you want?
should i care or shd i get up and fuck my vagine with my thumb ‘cause ‘cause i do it with myself like under my own dining table after cake and i can hurt myself like i don’t ever want to change the table cloth like i want to love my breasts the best way possible and lol lol i hate your dick in my house it’s my house and lol i touched a cake and it was lacking and spilling in mouths many.


my mother loved boxes

my mother loved boxes with plastic organs and the lady that lived in one of the boxes with seven husbands and she had hair like crows and many feet and also wrinkles but i think i’m mixing them in lies and bitterness and also i like to see false moon vomit after prozac i take prozac every night so under the covers i can be a sad coma superstar that lives with regret with red wine encrusted lily petals growing on her right cheek ‘cause she is mostly wrong and never leaves under the covers hands are hard to ignore even with needles in eyelids in eyes that won’t fall out my mother loved boxes and silent screams are my favorite cliche after death and unhooked bras.

About the Author

Nooks Krannie is a girl and poet. She is half Persian/half Palestinian and full human. She lived in an orphanage when she was little and draws from it in her work. She’s been published by some very cool places and loves many things. She tumbls at and instagram’s @nookskrannie