I macerate information and fuel my organs with my eyes. 

My eyes are teeth now. I do not use them to see, but to bite and chew. 

Meat enters my body through my cornea. 

The vitreous gel is now enamel.

I smile and let them flash bright and beautiful.

From the Press:

In Teeth Eyes, Rachel Turney executes a visceral reversal of sensory expectation, subverting the passive role of observation and transforming the act of seeing into a violent form of consumption. The body becomes a site of transmutation: vitreous gel becomes enamel, sight becomes hunger, perception becomes assimilation. This brief poem is unnerving in its precision, drawing the reader into a metamorphosis that is both grotesque and gleaming with beauty.

There is a sharp intelligence here, forming language the way the speaker macerates "information" where each line is a process of digestion. What begins as an abstract metaphor culminates in the satisfaction of possession: eyes that do not perceive, but conquer. Turney's work doesn't ask to be interpreted, it asks to be devoured.

About the Author:

Rachel Turney, Ed.D. (she/her) is an educator and artist located in Denver. Her poems, research articles, drawings, and photography can be found in a variety of publications. Rachel is passionate about immigrant rights, teacher support, and empowering other artists. She is a Writers' Hour prize winner. She is currently pitching her first full-length collection and hopes to have a book out soon. Her disappearing digital chapbook Europe in Black and White is available through Blood + Honey during July and August 2025.

Where to Find:

Website: turneytalks.com

Instagram: @turneytalks

Bluesky: @rachelturney