Two Poems by Kristin Garth

Candy Cigarettes

The tragedy of us — inside we’re twelve.

My candy cigarette chainsmoke, pinstripe bespoke

your suit, convenience store, costumed noir. Delve

into your pocket, frigid Slurpee poke,

of fingertips, a teen detective caught,

before I have a clue, cherry-handed —

receipt/poetic benediction sought,

pickpocket your mystery. Remanded

always empty handed, to prison bars,

wide stripes. Two adolescent archetypes:

teen femme fatale, a private dick with scars

consigns me criminal, stereotype:

you lock inside with juvenile regrets,

a beggar you bring candy cigarettes.

Freshest Dates

A question that you ponder in Walmart

4 am, after being fucked in all

the ways you know of in some woods, a part

of town you've never been or can't recall.

Even though you begged and pleaded with this man

your wooer with a keyboard "Not that. Please."

You felt behind your neck that squeeze, his hand

that brought you to the dirt and to your knees.

"I'll leave you in these woods alone unless

you let me." So you did. You screamed, but no

one listened. Now, you look at milk, obsessed

with freshest dates. Today will require so

much coffee. Question's not how will you sleep,

but how to wake to woods you'll just repeat.

Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola and a sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked magazine pages in Occulum, Drunk Monkeys, Luna Luna, Rag Queen Periodical, Anti-Heroin Chic, TERSE. Journal among others. Her chapbook Pink Plastic House is available from Maverick Duck Press, and she has another, Shakespeare For Sociopaths, forthcoming from The Hedgehog Poetry Press January 2019. Follow her sonnets, socks and secrets on Twitter: @lolaandjolie

Image by zombieite, found on Flickr:

#poetry #kristingarth #sonnets #candycigarettes #youth #sex #rape

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