Tonight I saw a man
with eyes
like puddles, eager
to be jumped into
and scrambled about.

Teeth
so like a small boy’s fingernails
that I wondered for a minute
whose hand
had become lodged in his mouth

and how had he learned to talk around it?

Imagine his mother inspecting them
for dirt before dinner
then lovingly setting a plate of
meat, potatoes
string beans before him like an offering

He chews carefully
kneading with his tiny fingers
and swallows with a tight fist
while thinking of the sandbox
the feel of the rain
and of the coarse sand
under his teeth.

(March 2002)