Sometimes it takes a six-hour drive to meet another villain to understand why you became one, too. Girl he used to beat, consensually, becomes the one you cry to, discrete, IM introduction: “I know what it feels like to be his orphan.” Week commiserating online while you grow more sure your tenure, little one, is done. Weak enough to say yes when she suggests you should take a holiday, Atlanta — there’s sex clubs. She knows what looks like love — your view opened door, her pompadour, dark suit, stare before she zips you in an obscene dress — feel what remains of his latest princess.
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated sonnet stalker from Pensacola. Her sonnets have appeared in journals like Glass, Yes, Five: 2: One, Isacoustic* and many more. She is the author of twelve books of poetry including Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir (The Hedgehog Poetry Press) and the forthcoming Flutter: Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press) and The Meadow (Apep Publications, 2020). Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie) and her website http://kristingarth.com
Banner Image “Pink Bouquet” by Robert Frede Kenter. Tweets at @frede_kenter
for 1 dollar I will hold your hand and for 2 dollars I will be your big fat snowflake. for 3 I will mean mug your enemies and for 4 dollars I will be a good girl and for 5 I will sun burn. for 6 dollars I will middle part. for 7 dollars I will make you tingle. for 7 I’ll be a bad boy. for 7 I will self destruct and for 7 dollars I will complete you. for 7 oh apple oh silk oh pumice stone oh tweeze oh bath oh sex kitten oh green sweater oh the dribble oh the money this meal this sheet oh baby oh sugar baby dribble baby oh apple yes sweater stone oh 7 dollar tweeze baby oh