I used to dream
my teeth fell out.
I’d look down,
and there,
in a blue bucket,
they sat, piled, pitiful
remnants of my parents’
paychecks, gone to hell
and the orthodontist.
Now they really are falling out,
hanging on by a fleshy thread,
some strange metaphor for life,
and I feel bad –
mostly for my mom
who always wanted me
to have good teeth.
She gave up her own for me,
the holes in her mouth
and pockets evidence
of hard motherhood.
I’m sorry, mom.
I threw away my retainer.
I know you told me not to.
Yes, it finally caught up with me.
But at least the fakes
will be whiter,
cemented to gum,
permanent.
#KatherinesCoffeehouse
