Poem -

Adieu Dental Floss And Toothbrush

Adieu Dental Floss And Toothbrush

Adieu Dental Floss And Toothbrush
(21st century pearly white prosthetics,
restored jaw bar wah key)

Aye noel hunger bristle,
and when false teeth soak at night
in tandem with stubby facial gristle
har reckon noah kisses

far me under mistle
toe, which prickly stubble
ma home grown thistle
the downside being, not one
chic chick, foxy gal
can I sound cat call whistle.

All those years I underwent
orthodontic care for naught
cuz profound gum recession
and bone dissolution
(advanced periodontal disease)

found me fraught
with angst riddled necessity,
whence dentures bought
and brought emotional relief,
where financial cost to me equaled aught.

Though grievous o'er grandiose
diet of baby food – reg gar agit
tay shun rubs raw rib bill bit
subject recently queried fit
ting lee (tummy eldest sister)
now answered with true grit

sans state 'o me health
of body, mind and spirit
yea...yea...with the following
poe whet tics git writ.

Ten re guard ding learn'n tuck
cap cha current day coup page
with collage of words that best
attempt to convey how one feels
after half dozen teeth removed,

yes, that day of departure fur remaining
lower teeth transpired countless
months ago with gums sorely adjusted
dats da tooth full testament to grinning,
and bearing final surrender
of thine bottom choppers.

Twas not with glee this dear bro
did accept fate, and now twitters like crow
adjusting new sans parabolic learning curve
to talk where speech
formerly akin to blob of dough

being formless, yet with for
rest full gumption resignation
to these extractions did flow
into mine psyche (with twinge
of accursed displease), boot go

to the University of Pennsylvania
Dental School and heave I've hen hoe,
this scrivener and regular joe
tried to find silver lining ya noun owe
removal of upper teeth from those
less than five centimeters below.

Long since scheduled
about four bajillion weeks
(in the past, and relegated tummy
personal dustbin of history)

i.e. aboot Bad Jillian deux fortnight
found yours truly unable to reef er
to the skin of my teeth,
yea this circumstance
doth null hunger suck n bit

'though once dentures fitted,
thee psychological gloom
(per maxillofacial situation)
with relief insurance
picked up tab breathes
sigh of relief all day'n height.

if hi ignored grim state
of vital accessories to chew
this har chap experienced additional
molars, cuspids, canines...

falling out though few
remained upon embarkation,
per painful turn of events, grew
ling a smidgen less worse

than getting tossed out hoo
chee coot chee mama into
the freezing brutal cold
by none other than Donald Trump
eskimo master of royal igloo,

while Sarah Ann aid ding howling winds
of n arctic monkey shape shifting
into polar vortex, wood dove probably
found me coo wing in deleterious
state of health thru and thru.

Other than the above
Matthew Scott Harris feels great
well.... on the bright side -
no need to brush nor floss,
when ma mouth opened ajar -
bing permanently totally toothless -

aye noel anger viz self hate,
hence nor feel inclined
to master ventriloquism, boot
axe hep oral void analogous
newborn as innate
vis a visa discover ring
joyus toothless state.
Β 

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