Gnashing Teeth Publishing

| words that get in your teeth

Class of 2013 by Xiomarra Milann

face of a young woman with dark hair and red lipstick behind a large green palm frond

Freud tells me I want to fuck my mother and
I don’t think this is what my parents meant
when they told me to get a university education,

I tell my therapist. I want my mother to see me
drunk, see me dancing with reckless abandon
in the middle of the dancefloor, spotlight on me.

I want my laugh to reverberate in her chest,
bounce off the walls, fill the room, so that
no one could ever deny my presence.

I want her to memorize my face in the moonlight,
as we venture out, heels stuck in cobblestone, and wonder
if she noticed the difference in the neon lights.

The way I seem to come alive when I know
that everyone wants me, does she want me?
Do you want me

the way these men want me, like I’m something
they can’t understand. “What did your daddy do to you?”
they ask, as I hold my mother’s hand,

navigating through the crowd till we end up here,
where I always do. Hold my hair back and be
the mother I need, wipe my tears and

tell me you love me

Xiomarra Milann is an ambiguously queer pocha whose roots lay in Laredo, TX. As a mother, writer, artist, activist, actress, and educator, she loves to consider herself a jack-of-all-trades and hates to admit that she’s a master of none. Her work can be found in the Sybil Journal, Acentos Review, Querencia Press, Infrarrealista Review, and on her 6th grade creative writing teacher’s bulletin board, among other places. She is a lover of limericks, cats, and crying during movies and hopes in her next life she’ll be born as something with wings. Her work is forthcoming in Defunkt Magazine. Follow her journey on Instagram @90strashpop.

young woman with red hair smiling at the camera with a white paper umbrella behind her

like pretty tulips by linda m. crate

everything has been hard and heavy, as of late; in my world and the world at large— so yesterday i was drinking in small wonders like pretty tulips dancing out

What I Can Offer You by Rich Orloff

I cannot fix your pain I cannot solve your problem I can’t prevent the sorrow you’re feeling Or even guarantee I’ll make you smile However, because I’ve known Joy embracing

by Natalye Childress

*this poem is in .jpg to preserve formatting *this is the unformatted text of the poem after rainer maria rilke you, the poet, have become world weary, word-wrought. and god

guy with a dark beard and moustache wearing a black graphic tee

Orchards of Udders by Jon Wesick

dripped on the blanket while air rustled tamarind trees. Chekhov drank a Thai iced tea and plummeted out of this poem. A flock of circles twittered in the hacksaw bushes


we love hearing from you. tell us everything

Skip to content