there is poetry here
there is poetry in my first lost teeth
the 2, front and center,
came out together
one onto the brick walk
of my grandmother's garden
the other,
into the grass never recovered

maybe this is why
I always find myself
driving past that house
there are pieces of me there
I never got back
there are pieces of me there
12 years left behind
maybe this is why
I coughed up mouthfuls of dirt
at your funeral