Hemorrhaging faces, blackletter typeface,

hold finger in page to save his place then 

trace its title, gilded gold, uppercase —

one word unknown, three you behold.  Quill pen

to parchment, paltry, you fold.  Perhaps 

his private stacks hold elucidation 

in leather bound dictionary.  You chance 

scavenging rows until you spy iron

bookstand a grimoire nigh of syllables like 

the ones you seek phylogeniticon — 

book of ghosts complete with species which strike 

you might quell — not spectres who socialize, spawn — 

with brawn/spell. Digits twitch, two volumes pitch 

forewarn a murderess must become a witch.

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 forthcoming 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