Calcium Deposits

there’s a dust-covered
tooth on my shelf —
got 18 roots —
fell out of a face
generations ago

maybe in february, when
talc cigarettes become the
rage again
and we all start eating
bone-shaped crackers out
of 3 ounce packs
I’ll show you my collection
of porcelain negroes

like the frog dude playing a
stand-up bass who’s missing
most of his head —
boogying back when
tambourine-colored ribbons
bound wrists to jazz

i don’t blame you for not
wanting to see such
objects right at this moment —
but I am saying —
I got thirteen million
more to show you.