Collective Unrest

 

Debating Daddy

February 13, 2019

A senior year’s for facing fear — debate

is offered, first time, as an elective,

the coach. more mother/detective mutates

you, English junior honors speeches with

commands: posture, eyes. She tries to teach you:

prepare, schoolgrounds, practice, pretend, defend

your body with facts, mouth. Some kids seem to

listen — so maybe him. You could transcend

a fate, female — some freight he’ll ship

to Provo – one school you’re allowed to go.

You still haven’t learned to say no. Guilt trips,

research, note card defense, inane ammo.

There isn’t any argument he’ll hear.

He wants you wedding veiled and disappeared.

 

 

 

Kristin Garth is a kneesock enthusiast and a Best of the Net nominated sonnet stalker. Her poetry has stalked magazines like Glass, Yes, Five:2: One, Anti-Heroin Chic, Former Cactus, Occulum, Luna Luna, & many more.  She has a chapbook Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), two forthcoming: Pensacola Girls (Bone & Ink Press, Sept 2018) and Shakespeare for Sociopaths (The Hedgehog Poetry Press Jan 2019).  Her full length, Candy Cigarette, is forthcoming April 2019 (The Hedgehog Poetry Press). She’s currently working on a poetic collection entitled Puritan U. Follow her on Twitter:  (@lolaandjolie), her weekly poetry column (https://www.rhythmnbone.com/sonnetarium) and her website (kristingarth.wordpress.com).

Please follow and like us:
error
In category:
Newer Post

Imagining Miami Beach Underwater

Ocean Drive lives up to its name, clusters of fish eggs cling to the curb of the sidewalk that’s slowly blushing with the growth of seaweed, waiting to hatch in the safety of these shallows. Famed art deco replaced by…
Read
Older Post

The Mouth of Lynnhaven

It is said that witches ride in eggshells downriver to deliver babies out of wedlock, under cover of night, that witches turn into hares to escape the grasping fingers of men with scythes for eyes and briars for tongues. Of…
Read
Random Post

The Spirit of A War Sleeps Beneath My Skull

(For Biafra) Separated by a wall of forty-nine years, I had no true feel of the war. No memory of what could have been disassembled into tiny visions, of planes flying & grazing the country’s landscape with fire, sealing the…
Read
Random Post

Galosta

I. When Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, her baby leapt in her womb. II. Eight years ago this month my sister and I watched women selling shawls at the gates of Vatican City slinging modesty for women’s shoulders on…
Read
Random Post

Let me tell you something, sweetheart, Or, Dear capitalist

It’s not a secret that this doesn't end well or doesn't end at all until everything does even the orioles and the salamanders and the making of rice cakes and cobwebs and love or that half of us are being…
Read
Random Post

holes in the curtain 1 & 2

holes in the curtain   nothing knows how to begin, without a voice.   a face like a gash in the windshield of the universe.   rotating, rotating. we think we inhabit a sphere,   something perfect, something close to…
Read