What is Dead
Do you hear it — what is dead? Sibilance
in shrunken head. Asphyxiated, ice
cream truck, backmasked melodic Maypole dance
then self destruct. Sleepwalking sacrifice,
from edge of cliff to paradise. Each step
directed by a voice, eked eloquence —
edict, not choice. A scream between bicep
and bent elbow, all sound compressed
to muffled adagio. Drowns you out
like chloroform. Its prophesies you breathe,
conform. Become a girl, black lipstick pout
put on a wooden sable steed to grieve.
For flesh in feathers, fast asleep in bed,
you have been awakened to what is dead.
Girl with a Pen
A southern snowflake in blizzard descends.
The winter you’re born beach town’s snowed in.
An alabaster tourist never blends.
You’re not like your parents. You don’t pretend.
Your town’s churches, strip clubs. Puritans sin.
You know very well by the time you’re ten.
It’s beaten inside ‘til you comprehend.
Their notion of naked you will transcend.
They show their souls while you show them your skin.
Champagne room secrets, they let you listen.
Girl just beginning, they don’t know your end.
You write, in pink ink, these businessmen.
It’s who you become not how you begin.
How they will know you is girl with a pen.
When You Are Drowning in a Car
When you are drowning in a car, headlights
illuminate you piscine stars. Windshield
fishbowl, a brown/black sky. Midnight airtight,
three hours to die. Alone, stretched neck appeals,
air bubble breaths — thirteen months you grieved
his brother’s death. A blonde borrowed
from a boiler room. Black Oldsmobile, he leaves
you, a tomb. 30, you’d be tomorrow
and a week — bobbing chin, passenger seat
When you are drowning in his car, do you
believe the curse? Can’t breath. No stars. Batique
scales, flat eyes float by tragedy see-through,
unempathetic view, your black bell jar,
just you alone and drowning in a car.
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Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola and a sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked the pages of Anti-Heroin Chic, Moonchild Magazine, Occulum, Neologism Poetry, Rise Up Review, Faded Out, Paper and Ink Zine and many other publications. Her chapbook Pink Plastic House is available through maverickduckpress.com. Follow her sonnets and socks on Twitter: @lolaandjolie.