You Are Going To Breed
When bathroom walls are thin, a gilled girl
indecent, listens in to workers, loud,
tunneling toward your tank while you curl
up knees, an ear against the wall, scowl
attempting to hear it all, the lurid
lyrics men will sing, speech of bodies that
make cheeks sting like, a podcast, perverted,
you aren’t supposed to hear inside this vat
where you have disappeared. Your secret show
is spoiled one afternoon, when the chatter
concerns what is coming soon — a fellow
that is in part a fish. It does not matter
you have neither the desire nor the need.
You overhear you are going to breed.
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked journals like Glass, Yes, Five:2:One, Luna Luna and more. She is the author of seventeen books of poetry including Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Crow Carriage (The Hedgehog Poetry Press), Flutter: Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press), The Meadow (APEP Publications) and Golden Ticket from Roaring Junior Press. She is the founder of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and co-founder of Performance Anxiety, an online poetry reading series. Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie) and her website kristingarth.com