like pulling teeth

Offended by lies,

I plucked all mine out

–as many as I could remember, anyway–

Swirl-swiffing webs, and

Chucking phony filters, and

Squaring all pyramid,

I shoe-blacked bits of white.
Going global, then, I removed rug, and

overpowered by the itch to truly feel the land beneath my piggies,

I crowbarred flooring, too,

stripping made bed there, next

(as it no longer served)

but leaving dog slumbering at its foot well enough alone, since

my Pinocchio proboscis was hardly his fault, and

his bark was just so tiresome, and

when only the prerequisite pillow, and

sleeping mutt remained,

I pulled every last tooth I had

(disabling enameled deception)

to place these extractions under cushion at bed’s head

–whereon I now also lay—

whispering to the down

all that was up,

I drifted in


bled out,

dreaming of

a Truth Fairy

and whether

she exists.


About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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