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Teeth

Teeth

never mind
the potluck spread
we eat and drink
our lives in debt
take away
our charming
veneer
and all
we've got
are teeth
teeth
on the stone
cooled with water
and cut away from the
bone
marrow and fiber
of our muscle combined
flexing and folding and
biding our time
until we grow
roots or wings
to take us away
as Angela sings
of broken days
and a hindered
defeat.

Take my hand.
Eat my meat.
 

Joel's Thinky-Party Night #1: Male Vanity

Joel's Thinky-Party Night #1: Male Vanity

On Writing

On Writing