Talk Dirty To Me Someday

after Poison and Langston Hughes 

High school freshmen cheer tryouts are to

that Poison song — your fundamentalist 

mother prattles on while you attempt to chew

asparagus as if this is beneficence,

intervention over sustenance.  Know 

that this is it for you, no tiny skirts 

gold flared blue, no daughter in a live porn show.

You cannot even admit that it hurts — 

sense a future waits, perverse, where you’ll cheer three

evenings a week, pom poms, uniformed 

physique to NIN and Korn, dirty 

talk, choreography performed

with the gravitas of any deferred dream. 

Desire, in strip clubs, isn’t always obscene. 

Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Rhysling nominated 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

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