Pink Litter 14/7
A virgin nerd my senior year, afraid
of boys, ashamed to cheer. Routines remade
in my bedroom in rolled up skirts and braids,
a dad that looms. Fantasy never fades.
I never wore a uniform though plaid’s
a princess I adored. A home too bad
for me to stay, a naked nymph nomad
becomes a purchased, pigtailed display.
I dance in kneesocks weekend nights. I shake
my pom poms under neon lights. Cupcake
cocktails and champagne, a grown up takes
a little name — the only thing I fake.
A topless club that gives this girl so much:
A place I can be me but can’t be touched.
Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola. Her sonnets and other poetry have been featured in Anti-Heroin Chic, Infernal Ink, Occulum, Faded Out, Wanton Fuckery and many other publications. Her poetry dollhouse chapbook Pink Plastic Houses: Three Stories of Sonnets will be published in 2018 by Maverick Duck Press. Follow her on Twitter: @lolaandjolie.
This is our first sonnet, so it deserves a category all its own! She’s a really neat girl, unique experiences and a fresh perspective. Do all the necessaries. — M.R.
Pink Litter. 