by Kristin Garth
She will not ask you to explain. Even
half women comprehend who is to blame
for plots where girls remove their clothes — reason
you sit, alone, exposed in frigid shame,
shuddering chest. She will approach you slow
with only one request — when he would kiss
this poisoned neck, taste his death, let him know
the cause was disrespect — damsels dismissed
of his own kind, immortal queen his lips
maligned. Let him know it could have been you
buried beneath soil and dew with drips
of poison, upon naked skin, I knew
were meant for him. Dead mermaids he forsakes
still ache. Let him know his final mistake.
Editor’s Note: This poem will appear in the forthcoming Flutter: A Southern Gothic Fever Dream from TwistiT Press. Flutter is the story of Sylvia Dandridge, a 16-year-old dying of scarlet fever in 1883 Pensacola. Beset by fever dreams, she concocts a universe on the grounds of Longleaf Estate that bequeaths her progeny (lemon tree foundlings), drama (rabid swans and vengeful mermaid ghosts) and romance (a teenage seeming demon named Étienne).
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated poet from Pensacola and a sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked magazines like Five: 2: One, Yes, Glass, Luna Luna, Occulum, Drunk Monkeys, and other places. She is the author of eleven books of poetry including Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Puritan U (Rhythm & Bones Press) and Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir (The Hedgehog Poetry Press) and the forthcoming Flutter: Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press, 2020) and Dewy Decimals (Arkay Artists, 2020). Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie) and her website (kristingarth.com).
(And for something a little different, check out Kristin’s sonnet, Sociopathy in Starbucks. – Elephants Never)