She was a beautiful girl
like the last leaf on a tree;
Blistering red.
Her hair, the color of crows—
and she wore her feathers
with a neon pink glow
of the big city she sat in;
Waiting for the dentist
to fill all her cavities.
When I came out from
the interrogation room,
a pack of floss tucked tight
in my breast pocket—
she would not glance up.
Either too shy, too swollen,
or too good. Maybe all three?
What an afternoon this was.
Truthfully, I think she sensed
a writer had entered the room.
It was my heavy wool coat—
black— and the fact I wore
bright orange flannel beneath.
Elmer Fudd meets Leonard Cohen.
No sir, It just didn’t fit—
and she wasn’t having any of it.
So, she made it sour and
stared downward, giving me
as little as she could.
But such a beautiful girl—
I can’t help but wonder,
Why so sad?
Maybe she had been flossing
even less than I had.
Too bad. Like I say,
she was a beautiful girl.
Here’s hoping that dentist
filled her mouth up good
and fixed that smile.
Maybe next time,
she’ll show me her pearls.

written on 11/30/2010 by: Matt Kane