Black Tooth

By Georgia Bowan

It happens over, over and over,

Can’t ever stop it, hey.

Creepy crawly, sickly gut feeler, or a lump somewhere.

Making her wet all in the mouth, there’s a sky-bound view,

With swift cardamom shades within the clumps of solid, sharp solids peeking through.

He’s still watching from the porch tower, twelfth-grade love-struck cadaver in your bed.

Solid and silent (cadaver in your bed).

Just how you were,

Were.

Ankles calloused, all brittle and bruised and everything. Remember, said it took too much to come all the way down. You couldn’t even come down (couldn’t wait).

Said It was enthralling to read my stuff, though, said it was enough to make you feel all wrong and off-put. I got worried by that, walked it off. Always do.

Didn’t want me but said it was worthwhile, said it was worth all the claws. Claws and all.

Bet you said that to all the girls, bet you say that to all the girls, hey.