Blur

Kristin Garth

Matriculated many months ago
from frenetic faux fellatio.  Pupil 
you never wanted me to be follows 
a blur beneath black locust trees. Fertile 
a couple weeks a year before reason 
reappears, careless with pigtailed pioneers,
fuck dolls with dank eyes sewn shut by demons 
you cannot confront.  They all disappear 
with sustenance of blooms when the season 
requisitions tombs decorated in 
pastels. Halo for the harlot heathen 
you once knew well from grave I hide within
to masticate upon my own hunger. 
I masturbate until it’s all a blur.