I met a garrulous man with jagged teeth,
which some people found were hideous,
which I thought were a stunning rendition of the Rockies,
which when his mouth was open widest,
yielded a matchless crooked horizon.
In his repellent smile,
I mounted the peaks of Beaver Creek,
by a worn trail ground from aged bread.
I may have been there for a week,
tendering all the bends from end to end.
Upon his ailing cough I returned,
to the rough unyielding streets,
where his smile faced rigid jaws,
maws too stern to understand his greet.
featured in Poetry Rivals Collection 2011: Words Everlasting. Publisher: Forward Poetry.
