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Crannogs

My ancestors
who piled stone & timber
to build their homes on the lochs

who smeared their faces woad-blue
who leapt over bonfires & slept

hugging spears to their chests

knew they’d made their houses
on the spine of an animal

that swam in a black ocean

they did not love nature
but they respected its tooth & claw

far from the bone-gnawing draft
of my ancestors’ crannogs

I stare up at the night sky & see
a mouth of numberless teeth

 

Jonathan Louis Duckworth is an MFA student at Florida International University and a reader for the Gulf Stream Magazine. His fiction, poetry, and non-fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in New Ohio Review, Fourteen Hills, PANK Magazine, Thrice Fiction, Cha, Superstition Review, and elsewhere.

 

Issue 6 >