788

I knew an island
off the coast of Carolina
where everyone ate
newspapers and brushed
their hair in front
of their eyes.

I visited once
I had an aching tooth
and was out at sea
far from the true coast.

They threatened to pull
all my teeth out
if I didn’t stay
for a week
help them finish
preparations for a storm
that their priest
foretold was coming.

This time next year
will be the anniversary
of the day I pulled
my tooth out
with pliers
and swam back to Carolina.