Once more

you’ll find me staring
at my reflection and wiggling each tooth
just to make sure they’re not loose
like at 4 a.m. in REM mode
and ripping layers and layers
with blood gushing curlicues down
the drain

                    so that’s why
it’s backing up only a few months after
we snaked it out, the mouthwash gunk
and gobs of hair all churning together
with my plasma — and it’s another state of matter —
you’ll find me staring at these days, stare at anything,
every new thing I knew
I didn’t know, freezing every atom every hour
I’m awake before dawn to destroy
the final fears lodged deep in my throat

blistering melons and unattainable plane tickets

and I’d just prefer to rip out these teeth
and learn a few minutes later that they’re back
healthy, regularly flossed, glossed, ready to tell people
I’m fine for today, too!