Tonight's Poet Corner: English Toffee Teeth
English Toffee Teeth
by Belinda Roddie
Old man glues his hand to the sidewalk,
frees himself and leaves two fingers behind.
On the pavement, they grow soft and sticky,
like good old English Toffee,
the crunchy dirt substituting for almonds.
People leave pieces of themselves all over the
the city, and the walls of townhouses, too,
oozing rhymes from separated ears
that they plucked from their skulls to
slap onto alabaster. They want to eavesdrop
on their neighbors and see if their husbands and wives
are having sex in a tiny bedroom
with a little car parked just beneath their window.
by Belinda Roddie
Old man glues his hand to the sidewalk,
frees himself and leaves two fingers behind.
On the pavement, they grow soft and sticky,
like good old English Toffee,
the crunchy dirt substituting for almonds.
People leave pieces of themselves all over the
the city, and the walls of townhouses, too,
oozing rhymes from separated ears
that they plucked from their skulls to
slap onto alabaster. They want to eavesdrop
on their neighbors and see if their husbands and wives
are having sex in a tiny bedroom
with a little car parked just beneath their window.
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