Sunday

Don't listen to my mouth
it wasn't doing what it was supposed to
the words came tumbling out faster
and cruder
mocking my best intentions.

I have told my mouth to apologize
but the words are tangled behind my gums
the tonsils are rebelling
my tongue has tied itself to the roof
and my teeth are chattering amongst themselves
ignoring pleas for attention

Don't hold my mouth against me
strangled syntax and verbs without objects
sentences sharpened to slice and maim
mutilated what I had meant to say
and I apologize for my inability
to quell my mutinous mouth.