A Quiet Storm
these paper bullets of the brain
Thursday, March 18, 2010
White Fang in the Washroom
Sometimes
When I brush my teeth
The toothpaste foam overflows
The basin of my mouth,
Just at the sides,
Dribbling down in frothy tears
Like drops of blood or fangs.
I flash a sinister smile in the mirror;
I am a peppermint, fluoride vampire.
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