A Little Tooth by Thomas Lux

Thomas Lux

A Little Tooth by Thomas Lux

T.

The houses were burning and we could hear the wail of sirens as fire trucks raced past us. My sister, on her way home, saw the black clouds from far away and felt her heart leap to her throat. We stood before the television, watching the flames. Then I fixed myself a bowl of

champorado

and cold milk.

Goodbye, September.

A Little Tooth

Thomas Lux

Your baby grows a tooth, then two,

and four, and five, then she wants some meat

directly from the bone. It’s all

over: she’ll learn some words, she’ll fall

in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet

talker on his way to jail. And you,

your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue

nothing. You did, you loved, your feet

are sore. It’s dusk. Your daughter’s tall.

You might also like these:

poetry