I know a man who spends the first day of
the year in the middle of a four lane road
attempting to disappear. In his gloved
hands, a pick ax swings at vehicles; both slowed,
indifferent drivers speeding by might
not have known what mental disorder
a new year had sown. Do artificial lights
put prematurely away hold together
a psyche almost decayed one more day
that becomes a year, new, you can’t abide?
Your heart holds a violence that must sway
side to side towards any who ride
by its disintegration tonight.
Remember nothing before blue and red lights.
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Rhysling nominated sonneteer and 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 many books of poetry including Crow Carriage (Sweet Tooth Story Books) and The Stakes (Really Serious Literature) and the editor of seven anthologies. 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 kristingarth.com