False Teeth

• Rafael S.W, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2007

This old dinosaur. The can opener
Sits inside the drawer and waits,
Legs spread, fangs bared, staring at the door
He sits in darkness, his shambling gait
Forces him to lie there, tucked beneath
A dry gluepot, pen, baby’s milk teeth

Rattled to the side, silvers oxidised
Usurped by ring pulls, tabs and worse
New easy open pack, so you don’t have to try
To clamp its jaws round the fat neck, but first-
You have to shake open the draw, sift through
Staples, birthday candles and a box of elastic bands just in case you do…

And when it succumbs
To the crippling sandpaper tongue
Of time, and grandkids ask me why
I don’t throw it out to die
I’ll say, the purpose is still there
Then I’ll fall asleep, in my chair.