Wisdom teeth removal becomes a way of talking about self-hatred in "Puppy." The subtitle, "postpartum for my wisdom teeth," frames the surgery as a kind of birth followed by grief. The speaker lies in bed recovering, blames the "kid in the mirror" for the loss, and wishes to be "dinner for the maggots." The poem's anger is aimed at a younger self, who is also blamed for the speaker's dislike of their curls.
Midway through, the poem lists an attempt at reinvention: blue-green eyes, "ivory teeth," coral lipstick, a stare that never turns to profile. Yet each detail feels like a performance, and the sallow skin and burning thighs pull the speaker back to the body's pain. By the end, the speaker longs for the teeth they lost, as if having them would finally allow self-acceptance. The final line, "maybe if i had my wisdom teeth i'd love me," sounds hopeful and sad at once. The mood is raw, bitter and tender, with blood and decay mixed into ordinary bathroom details.