Inside the braces laden molars
you tripped a trap that left me
sprawling, falling, tumbling, head
over hells, that sprung in 9 circles
of geometric unpleasantness.
Brick fences popped up like daisies
which swung wildly back and forth
while chanting radio jingles
and spewing fortune cookies axioms
that cracked my skull into confetti.
I trolled the Claddagh for foreign tongues
and slanted eyes and skin thick enough
to stave off the burn of gas lamps and pocket
rockets and a sun bright enough to let me
see you clearly.