Make Me Afraid Again
A driveway can become an extended
treadmill. I jog safe lengths back and forth until
I exhaust muscles, thoughts of how life could end
when my narcissistic president feels
impotent and deprived of power. I can
not remember when I was deflowered
by a sycophant of cults — MAGA, Mormon.
They will let you grab them — and I cowered
expertly by the age of ten. They fly
two Trump flags, the neighbors right down the road.
I’m groped at Christmas indiscreet by my
father, first time as an adult, and I implode
but quietly as your president predicts.
Make me afraid again, your body politic.
Kristin Garth is the author of seventeen books of poetry including Flutter Southern Gothic Fever Dream, The Meadow and Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir. She is the Dollhouse Architect of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and has a weekly sonnet podcast called Kristin Whispers Sonnets. Visit her site Kristingarth.com and talk to her on Twitter @lolaandjolie