by Jean Prokott
well okay thanks for asking I hate the space between my canines on the right side which if
viewed from a certain angle provides a shortcut a secret road to the tongue which is where the
bad words are hiding. this whole question is to sell me adult braces incisor cufflinks Jell-O-mold
prisons and that question on page one asked me to identify my bipolar and I’m not sure why the
dentist needs to know about that unless it said bimolar and I got confused but fuck I’d love to
bite twice as hard. I’d love for the dentist to find my depression in the cavity where the mercury
amalgam has deteriorated. fill it in. my mouth is already full of silver. find my mania buried in
my soft palate, my anger swinging my uvula like a wrecking ball. I have a dirty mouth. some
budding nonsense on my tongue is looking for an excuse to fuck things up. sure clean these
teeth. let me know what you find. is there anything you don’t like about it?
Jean Prokott's poetry collection The Second Longest Day of the Year won the Howling Bird Press Poetry Prize (Howling Bird Press). She is author of the chapbook The Birthday Effect (Black Sunflowers Poetry Press) and is a recipient of the AWP Intro Journals Award and of the League of Minnesota Poets' Grand Prize. She has poetry in Rattle, Verse Daily, and Arts & Letters, among other journals. She lives in Rochester, Minnesota and online at jeanprokott.com.