Poor poor toothbrush
Precariously perched upon the porcelain precipice
Each night I push your plastic pricklies into my plentiful plaque
Only to reduce you to your perch
To ponder your pitiful plight

I have her legs.
Flaky skin-wood stove induced,
winter pricklies going wild,
and a little bit of mashed potatoes in the thighs.

I saw them hiding
underneath her house coat,
pale and untouched
like the snow covered hill.

A boy walked in a mist.
He couldn't see for a hundred meters.
He felt he was lost.
He walked on, but the mist only thickened.
He followed a path that suddenly ended.
And now? he said to himself.
Next to him a hedgehog appeared out of the bush.
Hedgehog, he said, how do you find your way in this dense mist?
Well, said the hedgehog, I'm a prickly animal and my sharp pins sense
whether there’s danger or not.
But, said the boy, I'm lost and afraid.
Now, said the hedgehog, that's because you only use your eyes.
What you see is just mist and that's nothing to be afraid of.
But I don't have your prickly pins, said the boy.
Oh, said the hedgehog, but if you're afraid of the fog, just sit down
and wait till it dissolves.
How long? said the boy.
Just how long it takes, said the hedgehog.
Remember, your eyes are connected to your brain.
And so are your skin, ears and nose. Those are your pricklies.
I'll tell you what, said the boy, can I sit next to you for a while?
Right, said the hedgehog, sit down and enjoy what you see,
because what you see is mystery, not danger.