No. 4 “Teeth”


Thank G-d for these teeth
To gate my wagging tongue
Dripping tall tales
Over famined common ground

Ponder the forecasted wind
The wreck on route 26
Encounters romantic past
Bemoan the fickle muse of exertion unfound

Poke a bloated cloud
And watch the rain begin
Let our tongues lap the puddles
Drawing equal parts stream and soot

Leave my stomach to clean the harvest
And my tongue to hang dry
Patch the cracks ‘tween my teeth
Of the gate opened by my foot

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.