Author: [[Abe Brownell]]
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I am crossing over and across
Stillness but don't say stillness
Unquiet but don't be loud about it
I keep suspecting my teeth are trying to escape
Must not like the smoke
Think it would be better to be in other gums
Not wrong
I should treat them better
Stop using them as metaphors
Taking them for granted
I went to the dentist yesterday
My teeth are fine but something isn't right
Crashing through the river of forgetting
None of us can remember
We find us all entwined
Twisted around the architecture
Plundering oblivion for whatever it has left
We all live in the house of the deceased
Jagged from removal
I keep sticking on removal
Its trails are everywhere
Courses of wind and fire
And you might feel again
And again until numb and then
Sense on the edge of acceptable geometry
Spent it all on loose tobacco and abandon
Dear Geppetto,
Make the magic wood into a pipe instead
Where does the life go?
Fluttering off into a butterfly dreaming you're someone else
A butterfly dreaming you're a magic pipe
Smoking out the life
My teeth have only ever been real
I'm going to the dentist tomorrow
I can't promise my teeth
Do they smoke out with life?
Will I one day open my mouth to 31 enameled butterflies fluttering out?
Will they dream by day or night?
Will they light up like a pipe?
They'll chew the shadow of the moon
They'll fly away far too soon
Dear Geppetto,
We leap clear of Euclidean space
We fly through the manifold
All teeth
We are porcelain on the mantle
We fly through relief
I am at the dentist wearing green gloves
My hands are latex-free butterflies
There is light streaming out of my forehead
I am crying out into the mirror
"Open"
Dear Geppetto,
Where have your teeth gone?
Are they all hewn from magic wood?
When they fall will you lose real blood?
They'll fall just the same
Into the pipe
The boy that dreamed the man smoking the pipe
Becoming butterflies when the time is ripe