by Kristin Garth
Tendrils to tails, they circumnavigate
a naked girl, bloom crowned, against tree trunks
too late. Mermaiden ghosts tread air irate,
retreat to appease queen’s dictates — swim, slunk,
away, to wisdom pooled. They theorize,
a spectral mermaid school, why would she sit
in shivered fright, flesh sodden pink, unwise,
unclothed, alone, midnight? It’s counterfeit
coincidence — pretense of confidence,
a doppelgänger of the dead, death bouquet
atop twin sibling’s head, a harpy scent —
deceased half beasts remember being prey.
Their queen’s proclamation — ‘It’s no mishap;
keep back. She looks exactly like a trap.’
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 a further Flutter, read Kristin’s Susceptible. – Elephants Never)