I Dream Violet & Veruca Are Best Friends by Kristin Garth

    “Veruca Salt: Let’s be friends. Violet Beauregarde: Best friends. [both turn away, obviously hating each other]” Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, 2005 Tim Burton film    Upon a chocolate current, inside  a candied carnation boat, pinafored girls, hands entwined, float.  One in crimson beside one in blue cavort toward fudge fjord, swirled cliffs umber, cashew. The ones who row at perfect pace know swudge1 meadow is the place…

Golden Ticket by Kristin Garth

Golden Ticket    Some have a daddy who finds it for them. Some swallow defeat then win on a whim. Some crave competition more than some gum. Some hack computers with algorithms. Some are just lucky on one special day. Decade of dates you thought luck turned away, abandoning you to hunger, decay, were debts…

Speaking to Boys of Broken Hearts by Kristin Garth

Speaking to Boys of Broken Hearts   It will take years but one night you will write to him about your broken heart — though just mechanics, the aortic valve not tight enough to fight the flood of blood it must so somethings that shouldn’t easily get inside.  It’s why you grow tired — so…

Luminous Lollies by Kristin Garth

Luminous Lollies   Luminous Lollies For Eating In Bed At Night is an unexplored factory room, only an elevator button title in the book. In Golden Ticket,, we go inside:   The button ten rows up, third from the right is labeled Luminous Lollies For Eat- ing In Bed At Night.  You ask if you…

The Black Gardenia by Kristin Garth

The Black Gardenia   Like Dahlia, the Black Gardenia winters in Florida too, comes home from California, not cut in two. The man leaves, mostly, skin intact, monochrome exotic eyes, like lipstick, black.  Shuts faux schoolgirl thighs to strut alone, odd streets. Small, southern drawl, sweet scent more will follow — three piece suited stranger,…

Open Eyes To The Unknown by Kristin Garth

A sonnet, illustration and footnote from Crow Carriage:   Open Eyes To The Unknown   Add the footsteps upon the stairs, eighteen at least you are aware before the groan of the unwieldy door, the rattled keys that underscore your confinement alone. Open eyes to the unknown.  Only darkness which amplifies each sound of what…

The Disappeared by Kristin Garth

The Disappeared   for the Bangladeshi women who bravely and publicly protested Nusrat Rafi’s, (a 19 year old girl) murder by burning post report of her sexual assault.   They hold up placards of a dying face, familiarly defaced by disappointed men.  Stand together in a public place, female chain composed of some exploited at…

Bed by Kristin Garth

  Bed   belongs to silvered heads.  Threadbare pillows, pilled bedspread meager enough to expose the forty calcified overgrown toe- nails near its dinged footboard of those reposed in perpetuity.  Four ninety-year- olds who soon will be eleven again this evening when the grandson appears. Chocolate whispers sate hungry ears. Thin crinkled lips one licks…

Beast In The Carriage House by Kristin Garth

Beast In The Carriage House   The beast is in the carriage house, horse in the hay. Feathers drip from his last trip — a sister sought to stay. Forced into her bloodstream, pink delirium, the milk is on the saucer. Floor becomes a bay. Each bed becomes a sailboat. Occupants will sway. Eyelids battened…

Earth Is An Angry Lover That Still Makes Me Cum by Kristin Garth

Earth Is An Angry Lover That Still Makes Me Cum   My parents (right wing extremists I hate for philosophies as much as what they did to me) occasionally communicate — this week about coronavirus. Say it was created in a Chinese lab, biological warfare, though Trump’s got it under control but do you have,…