“We Are Fucking Happy” by Kristin Garth

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A steakhouse parking lot, first date, first dom
will ask to tickle.  You’ll cooperate —
a subtle nod, half-closed eyelids.  His palms
first touch your trembling ribs.  Breathe against, wait,

until fingertips pry paroxysms,
open thighs, one hand around a throat, can’t
cum until you will comply — conditions:
you are a pleasure, denied, he may grant,

unexclusively, to you — and then some
friends.  You could learn to like it or you can
hold it in behind a cervix fingers strum
numb. We are fucking happy. Understand?

A protocol practiced, parking lots before,
brings college girls to his living room floor.

 


Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated poet from Pensacola and a sonnet stalker.  Her sonnets have stalked magazines like Five: 2: One, Yes, Glass, Luna Luna, Occulum, Drunk Monkeys, and other places.  She is the author of eleven books of poetry including Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Puritan U (Rhythm & Bones Press) and Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir (The Hedgehog Poetry Press) and the forthcoming Flutter: Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press, 2020) and Dewy Decimals (Arkay Artists, 2020).

Follow her on Twitter: @lolaandjolie 

and her website (kristingarth.com)

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