by Deshaun Johnson

I can sharpen a blade
along the teeth
that line
the jaws of this world

The vice grip of its
clenched jaws
and shift
tectonic plates

The smell of death
Hangs on the gums

The tongue is quenched
By tainted waters,
regurgitating oceans

I’m careful not to fall in the throat
I hear it swallows the feeble…