The King's False Teeth
A love poem by Steven Wallace
Written on April 27th, 2003

Chitter chatter went the teeth
as he set them on a silver platter.
The king's false teeth were known
for being pearly white,
and to crunch when he's bites
into the meaty flesh of fried
Kubwian tiger-squirrels.

Something, however, was amiss.
The king's teeth were covered in this ... this ...
Oh my! The king's teeth have been animated!
What foul fiend from below
could have done this? I know
not! Rathmagara must be up to her
demonic tricks again. The fur
of the Kubwian squirrel gave our
king no comfort, and he fled in terror.

But what would become of the kingdom
of Glintaruxious? What should be done
to ensure the safely of the land?
Surely, with no king, the empire would
collapse! Oh dear, no! What should
be done? Call upon the Mage of Nrosenroe!

A one-eyebrowed stout man appeared
in the doorway. His beard
was wrapped around a stick, looking
like a poofy stick of cotton candy.
"Fortunately, I've got my grelt stick handy."
he said, as he waved it around in the air.
"Spickle de spackle de sprinkley spit,
eat up your breakfast, every last bit.
Sparkle en spur gear es pan yole y tu,
Get your butt over here, I'm talking to you!"

The king magically appeared in the room
again, to the surprise of the broom-
keeper, who had been observing the excitement
instead of sweeping, which he was being
paid minimum wage for. Seeing
that the king was back, though, he returned
to his job of sweeping. He yearned
to get a higher paying job, but I digress...

The toothless king was back on the throne,
and his enchanted false teeth were left alone
in his chambers. No man was courageous enough
to enter the room, and the king's teeth were
never heard from again. Or were
they?

This is the moral of the story:
If ever your false teeth are enchanted by an
evil sorceress, call the Culligan man. He
will help you get through the troubling time
not by reviving your teeth, but simply by
comforting you. He's a great guy, and he
always helps cheer my up when I'm feeling down.
What's a silly pair of false teeth anyways? Who
needs that? The king certainly doesn't need
them, so neither do you. As a side-twist,
however, the king had to have all his food
pureed so that he could drink it. Life without
teeth really stinks. Remember to brush, let
this be a lesson to all you children out there.

Poem (c) Copyright 2003 Steven Wallace.