Like Pulling Teeth

Offended by lies,

I plucked all mine out

–as many as I could remember, anyway–

Swirl-swiffing webs that deceived, and

Chucking phony filters, and

Squaring all pyramids,

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

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

I crowbarred flooring, too,

stripping bed I’d made 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 veneers)

to place these extractions under cushion at bed’s head

–whereon I now also lay–

whispering to the


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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