Apology
Location
I can taste it,
the apology of my behavior,
it crept up the long
stretch of my exophagus.
I thought it was a burp,
then I tasted it, not a
sweet, after doughnut
breeze caught in my mouth,
but an old stale bubblegum
apology that wedged itself
in my teeth like taffy
or an old cough drop wrapper,
caught on the edge of
the cherry rush soother
that I popped into my mouth
yesterday, attempting to
suppress a separate apology
to my mother for spilling
coffee on her daily jumble.
I'm holding this rotted sweetness
in the worn down, enameled teeth
that stay in the forefront of my mouth.
It is a wriggling worm
and I hope that soon you'll be
the baby bird, laden with soft down,
that eats it.
I hope that it will
give you an appetite for
future wriggly meals.