← v18n1, Spring 2019
Poetry · Volume 18, Number 1

My Daughter Gets Her Wisdom Teeth Extracted

And the other woman in the waiting room is filing

her nails, methodically sweeping the emery

board until she has something just about perfect.

On the television: show where people assiduously

scour an outdoor flea market in hopes of finding rare

wonders. We are both watching it, both our mouths

agape, when the nail filer says, you really have to have

an imagination. I wonder if she means imagination

to be on the show or imagination to be alive.