Some things can never be replaced

 

I lost the tooth last night 

Been dreading it ever since

The dentist put it in.

A grand

A whole grand for a bridge

Not even an implant.

Said he had a good record

With his bridges but watch out

For baguettes.

Told him I bit my nails

He asked where exactly

I said on the sofa

And he spluttered.

Just now I took hold 

of the lengthy dripping shit

From the loo and plonked it

On the floor. 

As I patted it down 

With the the side of a cleaver

Spreading the load

To hear the tap of enamel

Or see the glint of white

Among the browns and greens

(Steak and broccoli)

I remembered it was an off white

Nicotine white like the rest of them

And inspected the mess

With a keener eye. 

Then I remembered my girl aged one

To when she swallowed a ball bearing

In front of my eyes.

Of course her mother found it

In her shit

But it was a lot easier 

Feeling through a nappy

And as I trawled through 

My own shit

Thinking of the daughter 

I haven’t seen for eleven years

With toilet paper up my nostrils

Gasping for a fag gagging

It wasn’t the stench of the shit

Or the wasted grand 

Or the inexplicable disappearance 

of the fake tooth

That brought tears to my eyes

It was the indelible memory 

of that ball bearing

She popped into her mouth

As if to say

And what are you going to do about it?

Getting up from the floor deflated

Looking into the mirror

I inspected the gap

And approved of it. 

Some things can never be replaced