Revenge of the Toothpaste Kid

Revenge of the Toothpaste Kid


He was always a very… toothpaste kid:

Bristle spikes held in place

By toothpaste gel

Atop his head.

Minty breath

That hung about him in a cloud,

Like a vaporous afterthought

Of fluoride.

A blinding smile,

Nearly equal in terror and sparkle.

Nearly, I say.

Crisp and fresh.

Immaculate and antibacterial.

By the final bell

The other kids

Had squeezed and smeared,

Wrinkled and rolled,

Crunched and crushed the heart out of him.

So, when he grew up,

He extracted his revenge

As a dentist.

For one cannot have the last laugh

With latex and local anesthesia

In one’s mouth.


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