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….
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