i was a farmer's son when i first learnt the earth has teeth as dark as the devil's flesh. how one day in the field my father touched my shoulder to remind me of our dead mother. he said son, the earth has teeth fleshed out of a toothless mouth. it has no edge yet spins us like coin into the air.
Jonathan Endurance, “Poem in Which I Am a Dead Fig,” published in Alegrarse













