Teeth Take To the Streets

My teeth walked down the stairs today Molar stepped on aluminum and I yelled “hey!” They were rioting to protest the new floss. I rolled my eyes; after all, I am the boss! My mouth tried to speak but nothing came out Not whisper, a gurgle, a cough or a shout. My teeth snickered; a sassy incisor cheered. They were gaining momentum as I had feared! My tongue gave me a wagging; I heard not a word. Those damn teeth had made my face feel absurd. My teeth began dancing, in the night, in the street. To a crazy, happy, sensual reggae beat. How to get them back? What would I have to do? I promised them the moon, and new floss too….