Two Poems // Sarah Stockton

Updated: Jul 9, 2019

Guardian Angel

She’s a loudmouth bitch, heedless

and red-lipped, always running late.

She drinks a witch’s brew, polishes

the cross around her neck, drives

a cast iron cart drawn by dragons.

Smelling of pine tar and seaweed,

she lets me climb on her strong back-

pours healing waters over my head,

laughs at the story of my life.

Coping Mechanisms Not Listed in the DSMR

A yellow teddy bear, blanket-stitched and ragged.

A child’s well-sucked and beloved thumb.

Braces, roller skates, acne treatments,

a diary full of secrets, spells and lusts.

Any car, until it breaks down or wrecks,

any book inscribed To my dear, always.

Trophies, college roommates, dancing shoes,

whatever you want to be when you grow up.

Politicians, pastors, teachers, seducers,

pain meds, bottles of wine, liturgies and hymns

tarot cards, diet books, brownies full of weed,

henna tattoos, Himalayan salt; bracelets, stacked.

The third lover after the first marriage.

A new career, hobby, art supplies, or pet.

The dregs of the garage sale on the cardboard table,

The intoxicating scent of your skin when you sweat

Sarah Stockton has poems in Poets Resist, Shallow Ends, and forthcoming in Glass, among others. You can find her @sarahpoetica or at

Image by Ricardo Francone

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