Toothaches Poem by Newton Ray Ukwuoma

The toothpaste is drying,
Its reddish juice drizzles now,
The flood's strides it befriended,
Had mocked Bolts in the epic of sprint
It was gagged, it was squeezed,
And it swelled.

The ocean sires many seas and;
Drinks many rivers,
Yet has not streamed, after all.

Lo, here is injustice in the jungle!
And jungle isn't a place to mess
Out with yonder knife: Money? No!
Its throat must be slit, pipes vandalised -
Blood letting - brain draining - cup victory!
And I too am ruler over this juicy paste,
As the lion is judge over all cats,
And rats miss-spelling democracy
With rat-racing, not cat-chasing.

Look, the tree isn't an axe;
It bends with the whirlwind.
But travelling in the wind's wings,
The axe embraces the root of toothaches:
And there is jungle's crucifixion.
There is good tooth brushing...
And there is all!