when i was younger i’d ask the tooth fairy y el raton for a book rather than money
id place my perfect pearly yellow tooth on my nightstand with the flowers engraved on the sides
and i’d keep the letter containing shaky writing close by so they don’t miss my request and leave a quarter by accident
they’d work together to get me a book,
diary of a wimpy kid, if you give a mouse a cookie, the boxcar children.
a book costs a lot more than the teeth-takers make from taking a single smelly tooth,
so they weren’t making quite a profit off of me
but oh my brown eyes would wake and lids would spread wide
as I see the new book that i’d get to read
to my second grade classroom of troublemakers
that would only calm down if i read them a book before they left to go home at three
i’d tap the heel of my flat shoe the same way my teacher did
and stumble over words i wasn’t taught to read yet
i know every kid asked for money
but i asked for words that contained more value than Abraham Lincoln did on a piece of wrinkled paper
if you give a child a book,
they will plant their seed and rise.
and even knowledge can disguise itself as a fun little book
given in exchange for a single smelly tooth