I find a nice park bench to rest for a moment,
While the ambience of the city roars all around me.
Here in the shade, near a busy playground,
My mind goes idle, and I open my treat.
The soft brown cube disappears in my mouth:
The warm, buttery sweetness of creamy, melted caramel.
My tongue is bathed in the edible sensation.
I savor it only a moment before
A rebellious tooth, uncomfortable with the indulgence,
Begins a revolt that starts in the back alleys of my mouth.
Migrating through the multitudes of microorganisms,
The blackness of injury spreads through my head.
In no time at all, the bacterial villains
Minuscule jackhammers that they are
Might chip away at all of my teeth,
Drastically reduce my eating options.
I need a bucket, or a glass, or even a drop of water,
To wash away this troublesome crew.
I need anything that will work to rid my mouth,
Of this practically invisible, self-operational,
Disgustingly beautiful, microscopic scum.