Wish I Had Known You When I Was Able to Watch Mindhunter by Kristin Garth

Kristin Garth, Poetry

Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Rhysling nominated sonnet stalker.  She is a Best of the Net 2020 finalist.  Her sonnets have stalked journals like Glass, Yes, Five:2:One, Luna Luna and more. She is the author of 20 books of poetry including Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir (Hedgehog Poetry Press), Flutter Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press), and Girlarium (Fahmidan Journal).  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

Wish I Had Known You

When I Was Able to

Watch Mindhunter 

and not too altered by grief to get through 

the first suicide, ten minutes I barely 

abide, try because I attempt to do 

anything you suggest.  Though it takes me 

a year to view the rest.  By then you and I 

don’t even speak.  We are friends when you were

weak, Speck’s prison pet who cannot fly,

nurtured by hands who allow another 

to die — in your case metaphorically.

Eventually, same with me.  How many live 

to know you as a ghost? When I’m asleep,

you come nigh, hug me like Ed Kemper did 

the FBI agent who treated him like a friend.

Everyone’s disposable in the end.