Teeth in the Orchard

2026 · poetry, handmade paper & organic material

It began as a poem.

Then the poem wanted a body.

Teeth in the Orchard has always been interested in the places where girlhood, appetite, violence and nature become difficult to separate. Fruit bruises. Flesh bruises. Things ripen. Things rot. Sometimes the sweetest things have teeth.

So I began wondering what would happen if the poems escaped the page.

An apple split open.

Red thread pulling its halves together.

Words stitched into handmade paper:

By thirteen
I knew the difference
between being a girl
and being fruit.

It won't last forever.

That's part of the work.

FIELD NOTE

Some poems want to be read.
Some want to be held.
Some want to rot.