My formulaic genealogy
is clone, failed experiment, his disowned
daughter designed scientifically
dependent, to feel diminished alone
is rented by replacements in topless
strip clubs, debaucherous daddies who pay —
when fantasy becomes a naked mess,
Benjamins against my chest — to walk away.
I do, too, one day — become a digital
display, a Twitter game programmed for play,
my pine online a prototypical
re-enactment of coded Father’s Day.
Doe-eyed in circles, I swelter in cubes.
Internet can’t tell I taste like test tubes.
About Kristin Garth
Kristin Garth is a kneesock enthusiast and a sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked magazines like Five:2: One, Glass, Yes, Anti-Heroin Chic, Former Cactus, Occulum,Luna Luna, Yes & many more. She has a chapbook Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), two forthcoming: Pensacola Girls (Bone & Ink Press, Sept 2018) and Shakespeare for Sociopaths (The Hedgehog Poetry Press Jan 2019). Her full length, Candy Cigarette, is forthcoming April 2019 (The Hedgehog Poetry Press). Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie), her weekly poetry column (spidermirror.com/the-sonnetarium) and her website (kristingarth.wordpress.com).