Rhythm & Bones
Rhythm & Bones
July 25, 2019
Passed Notes & Poems
a feature by
Kristin Garth
Start Spreading Your Legs
The Poem:
Start Spreading Your Legs
after 'New York, New York' by Frank Sinatra
Small town strippers sing appr...
April 25, 2019
PASSED NOTES & POEMS
a monthly feature by
Kristin Garth
The Poem:
I Do Not Write These Words For You
You listen when they speak to you — these words
my fingers learned by heart before I was
concerned with art. Nobody heard
my schoolgirl voice. Speak diary because
it is a ca...
March 20, 2019
PASSED NOTES & POEMS
a monthly feature by
Kristin Garth
THE POEM:
Girl Who Had To Learn To Scream
My soul is darker now — also my hair.
These days I’m wearing underwear. Look
less people in the eye. Beware men’s stares,
and you are why. Passivity you took —
I’m what was left...
February 22, 2019
PASSED NOTES & POEMS: It Could Be Different
Kristin Garth
The Poem:
It Could Be Different
He says it could be different. We could be friends;
don’t have to barter, love for skin. He’ll prove
the existence of benevolent men,
desire, rejection, frustration removed.
You...
January 14, 2019
Passed Notes & Poems
a monthly feature by
Kristin Garth
The Poem:
Nothing Wrong
R. Kelly tune you dance to topless in
the 90’s, main stage stripper’s choice of song,
the one that says “nothing wrong.” You listen,
a child abuse victim, bubblegum thong
to lyrics saying you be...
November 16, 2018
Passed Notes & Poems
a monthly feature by Kristin Garth
TW: non-explicit discussion of a true crime of childhood sexual assault
The Poem: ((*Listen here!*))
Five Cents
would buy a notebook you must steal. Fifth grade
charade of friendship you might feel apart
of -- if you p...
October 19, 2018
Passed Notes & Poems
a monthly feature by Kristin Garth
The Poem:
Fatalistic Fairy Tale
A dragon breathes inside pink skin. He owns
all of the oxygen. He’s hatched inside
a ten year old. Her hemoglobin hones
his stranglehold. A bloated beast, she hides
beneath, conceived ne...
September 21, 2018
Passed Notes & Poems
a feature by Kristin Garth
Poem:
18 & Elavil
prescribed post-sexual assault & then
perpetually dreamlife/death — no glow,
opalescent, of arms around a thin
almost-a-virgin neck & you-don’t-know-
if-he-will-kill-you-in-this-desert strange man
you met...
August 22, 2018
Necropolis
I’ve been offering annotated versions of my chapbook Pink Plastic House on my website and Twitter for sometime now. The annotations give me a chance to feel like the teenage girl I perpetually am, to chatter diary style – to pass a note to my readers from a...