White Grins

Lotsa white grins
starting to look awful ghoulish.
like a hidden hangar for billions of buzzards
all waiting on that jaw to open
all waiting on my surrender with a single cough.

my skin's gonna peel off in their
sardonic pecks
like wet Budweiser labels
just another empty bottle in the sun
without a name.

white grins at the restaurants
in foreign realms under key lights
white grins at the department stores that
i can't afford to breathe in.
white grins who've never heard a good joke
as funny
as mean as their own barricades.
white grins, barbed and electrified.

Lotsa Budweisers in the sun.
Lotsa Luck with the toothbrush, pal.
My grin will never be so white.
Carrion can't have the vultures on its side.

Bones bleach like a rich, satisfied smile.