Another poem about our teeth.

The Smell of My Teeth

My mouth is full of ghosts;
my infamous tongue
is covered in tastebuds;
my nose is generally insensitive.

A good set of teeth will never smell.

I have the forgotten mouth
of a mime this morning;
no tyranny will pass my lips
on the way in or on the way out.

Once I achieve the bathroom,
it will be all over
for whatever’s in there.

Man, my mouth is warm--
if we would believe the TV,
it’s like Vietnam in there.

Forensically, your teeth
will never misspell your name.

My mouth is like a little apartment
in my head; I clean it a little every day,
and it shines so gratefully.