in the sluice
of a Skytrack
crush and run
puddle a gold
shimmer reveals
a tooth
then another
and before I
wonder about
whose teeth
I imagine the
last food
chewed with
these gold
capped jewels ~
a steak?
a pork chop?
a can of
Beanie-Weenies?
a worker ambled
past pointing
at the carnage
explaining how
the fight broke
out between
two men over
his cousin’s girl
(the cheater)
and though I
did not know
who grew
these teeth
I wondered
about the
places
they’d been
before landing
in the puddled
heap all
sparkly like a
sequined dress
never to be
worn again
Common Threads 