Too many thoughts that don’t serve me, such crass
details and history. Vino venom
from a perfected pout, yet lips (and ass)
my cock can’t do without. A troublesome
tradition of demand, discuss, “Your brain
will be the death of us.” Such darkness deep
behind bright eyes and shameless lists of names
who I despise. Secret filled, you should keep
that mouth for putting me to sleep. On pills,
too cold, anesthetized. You’re far too strong
to hypnotize. And have they served you, will
and mind, or cursed you worse to not belong?
I won’t abandon something I adore.
I take a trip to Stepford with a whore.
BLOW POP LOVE
I taste, in you, my teens, a stick
I pull from jeans. Unwrap a scarlet dome
so dry, a shell I salivate to lick
and lubricate. Your ridges tongued become
a cherry smooth until undone. A bulge
between teeth and cheek graduates too soon
to sucks. Can’t wait for what’s within, indulge
an ever childish mind, surprise balloon
of pink behind a candied veneer. Roof
I rub to raw with rhythmic thrusts to get
to what’s inside. My bubble lust reproof
deflates you to a tasteless wax secret.
You’re sucked not savored since I was a child.
I still race through tastes that make me smile.
TOPLESS WUTHERING HEIGHTS
We meet in uniform: mine pleated, block
initials, fake as what you call me.
You buy my naked pom poms and a talk.
Your suit befits the man you used to be:
an agent, federal, then lawyer. Heart
as dark as wool I lean against to hear
ex-wife exasperations that you start
like all the other businessmen I cheer,
but yours will end in headlines. Burned your bar,
insurance fraud to life you buy in carjacks
and ends, shots at cops out sunroofs, jaguar
McDonalds crash, head to bullet impact.
All this two months since our last Friday night: topless champagne, quotes of Wuthering Heights.
Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola. Her sonnets and other poetry have been featured in Occulum, Anti-Heroin Chic, Quail Bell Magazine, Digging Through the Fat, Infernal Ink, Mookychick and many other publications. She is currently constructing a poetry dollhouse chapbook entitled Pink Plastic House: Three Stories of Sonnets. Follow her on Twitter: @lolaandjolie.