Each morning wake
to find the teeth maligned. The wisdom
teeth stopped growing at age twenty nine.
The pain subsided and a new road was in
with leather jacket, collar up, muscle car with fins.
Numbed out for weeks and a bandage round my 'ead.
"No, I have not yet got out of the damn bed!"
Reminded, should I have been paid for the
tracks that were road to side walk laid
I might be a rich fuck instead of slayed;
instead I mouthed off and gave up the tic tacs;
dentist paid. Not that squirrely. Not that hurly.
Blind shot and my evening ended early.
Each morning wake,
at least the pain is gone.
Reminded, eating cereal
of what went on.
The jawbone healed up okay. The pain I went through
resetting it with my own hands was worth it. I don't owe
hospitals anything. Every spat and pat of butter blood
into the toilet flushed and back to bed, bandage back
in place was worth it. Every sneeze and cough that
was brushed off instead of telling friends how much it
fucking hurt to open my eyes absolutely worth it. I
re set my own damn jaw. Re lived the night and the gnaw.
The hours, days, weeks, months, and finally got back to
a place where I could yawn without bursting to tears
immediately.
A pain I never saw
coming. A pain that was months long
humming.
Aye
aye
aye
aye
aye, dog.
Can we split that sandwich?
