Published in Punk Noir Magazine in 2022
Her toes are dangling off a stone fence post
encircling the sinkhole that swallows
parents, reposed, bottom half of their house, close
to all of their yard. Rainstorm which follows
fills her hollow along with the boulevard
abutting the hovel with precipitation
until the alligators arrive. She stands guard,
mewling kitten in hand, shrewd calculations
made to survive. A free hand unbuttons
the black cotton dress that hid the shame
of a belly she could not express when
the world was unbroken, she was to blame.
She quiets the kitten with milk at her chest.
First problem solved in a new world she loves best.
Kristin Garth & Pink Plastic House a tiny journal 