[ Cabin and Pine ] by Kimberly Swendson

[ Cabin and Pine ]

by Kimberly Swendson

hush · issue 7

The evening is deep and I am extracting a thin tooth from another, thinner tooth. There is no beauty here, just a cold hearth. A metallic twinge on my lip. The porch is made up of more sound than anything else. We are becoming diluted. We laugh and laugh and we are having sons. We are laughing and having sons. We have stashed their heads in little bags beneath the porch. From behind the plastic they gnash their teeth. Lined up one by one and watching.

In time, they will eat every piece.

Kimberly Swendson

Kimberly Swendson is a poet and translator from Colorado. She received her MFA in Poetry from the University of Notre Dame and her MFA in Literary Translation from the University of Iowa. Her work can be found in The Heavy Feather Review, Bruiser Magazine, ephemeras magazine, and elsewhere.