T E E T H

The taste of fear and of worry both
is the taste of your teeth both crumbled and broke.

In a dream all it takes is the chomp of your jaw;
On its own the collision of teeth says it all.
Your mouth pours with blood; take a thick plasma gulp -
Of spit and of bits of bloodied teeth and pulp.
You search with your tongue for the one tooth in tact,
But by now they're all holes or they're otherwise hacked.
The sour and salt drinks the back of your throat.
The sanguinary tinge of metal tops the coat.
Thirty-two teeth crack simultaneously,
And from beneath journeys blood unsurreptitiously.
Nerve endings whip about, put up a fight.
They deliver a cold spicy electric bite.
Your mouth oozes syrupy chunks down your neck
Your teeth are destroyed, your mouth is a wreck.
The desperate gurgle and sad try at speech.
The sudden removal of all of your teeth.

The taste of fear and of worry both
is the taste of your teeth both crumbled and broke.