tooth soup

When I was born she wailed
unceasingly in the cot beside me,
wet and indignant from her clumsy birth
through public schools, and
leather couches around the globe,
her rubber-band mouth sucked meal from the tits
of movie theatres and golf courses,
screamed her hunger to bankers and breadmakers alike,
penning verse in tax columns, molding
sculptures in dough.

No related posts.