Breadcrumb #570

MADELEINE MULDER

I fear my mother would love me more if I had straight teeth—    (but I do not)
So that I could smile wide like a chipper horse 

Perhaps she wishes someone had put me under                (sweet anesthesia)
So that I might wake with men over my face

Plying me open with latex gloves                     (singing hymns)
Wrestling in my mouth for power

As they place metal between my candy cavities             (to fix me)
But I am a crooked girl

With decaying teeth and no smile                     (oh no)
An imposter of a human

Mad for straightness                             (ha!)
But falling ten teeth short every time 

So tell me mother dear:                        (do not)
How can I rectify?       

And what of my contorted heart—                   
Will you straighten it with metal too?

• • •