"On Cracking a Smile" an original poem by thepoetmiranda

An original poem by thepoetmiranda

Intro

She’s back!

Last week, I enjoyed a mountain vacation with my family. We did some hiking, visited a few small town shopping districts, assembled a 1,000-piece puzzle, and got some much needed rest and disconnection. The refresher and natural beauty inspired new poetry, too, so you’ll be seeing a couple of those soon. Here’s one place we visited:

Turquoise Lake, CO

Today, though, I’m continuing a series I started sharing a few weeks ago. I started with these two poems, one of which is my shortest poem (five words, two lines):

I wrote the first draft of today’s poem about 10 years ago when I first started working on my The Escape Act book manuscript. When I decided to return to this series within the manuscript, I kept two stanzas and completely reworked the rest. Last month, I tried out the updated poem at a local queer open mic (under the title “On Biting”). After a little bit more tinkering, the final draft is ready.

Those of you who’ve been subscribers for a while won’t be surprised that my identity as a transgender woman shows up here. The poem text is below, followed by my video reading.

Love y’all!
💜Miranda📚

On Cracking a Smile

"No performer should attempt to bite off red-hot iron unless he has a good set of teeth." -Harry Houdini

In the waiting room,
across the top and bottom
of a framed poster of the 18th hole at Pebble Beach,
neat rows of straight, white
letters spelled out:
Orthodontists
Play It Straight.

Before the doctor bonded stainless brackets
to his crooked teeth, he bit
into the goop, the alginate,
used to form molds.
We need to know, the assistant said,
what your before smile looks like.
He never smiled
before.

Braces utilize the same principle
as a Medieval torture rack—
the subject is placed in the device,
tension is applied,
and then
tension increases—
the body relents.

In the always cold treatment room,
another framed poster.
This one showed an athlete—
someone who had worked harder than most
to become who she was.
The words they put in her mouth were:
Smile
Even When It Hurts.

Things to avoid while wearing braces:
gum, hard candy, popcorn,
caramel apples from the traveling fair,
red-hot iron.

After, he again bit
to create a mold,
to mold a smile.
He took it home, his unused smile,
wrapped it in bubble wrap,
stuffed it into a small cardboard box,
taped the box twice,
and stowed it in the keepsake bin
with the other molds
of someone she couldn’t be.

My Reading