Seven of Wands
by Kristin Garth | February 22, 2020
Lockable, your pink pearlescent door, though
you forgo such resistance more and more.
Each slamming stranger, secret friend follows
blueprinted passageways arched within your
architecture toward a portico
of ghosts. Termites, birthright, devour a dim
inishing host inside out; few would know.
Good bones, skull fucked old windows make phantom
moans — echoing demolition crews who gut
damaged interiors to Mötley Crüe
Girls Girls Girls, while you listen, wonder what
remains of you when construction is through —
what widened, hollow skeleton awaits
new wear and tear in satin latex paint.
Kristin Garth (she/her) is a Pushcart, Best of the Net, and Rhysling-nominated sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked journals like Glass, Yes, Five:2:One, Luna Luna, and more. She is the author of fourteen books of poetry including Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir (The Hedgehog Poetry Press), Flutter: Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press), Shut Your Eyes, Succubi (Maverick Duck), and the forthcoming The Meadow (APEP Publications).