Biopsy Poem by Michael Arthur

Biopsy



Mother tripped over wildflowers
one April
when she got the courage
to go out of the house
looking like dead mistletoe
growing outta blacktop cracks.
Busted out her front bridge,
glued her discolored canines
back together with pottery cement.
After she didn't smile much without covering her mouth.
I keep the broken ones.

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