i hate coming to
and realizing i’m post-tornado,
the aftermath of childish blustering
stain my guiltier teeth right to the ridges.
take me away with your tool,
doctor salty enamel tickling tip
ignore the subconscious gushing
mouth-blood of it.
(i ate too many carbohydrates tonight. this stuff in parentheses is not part of the poem, just a disclaimer for the title.)