Insincere

 by Brett Rutherford

     after Callimachus Epigram IV

If after saying “farewell” to me —
not a good wish but a poison arrow —
you turn to my friends, and, laughing,
mock me when I am just out of hearing.

 Far better for you to keep that orifice shut.
You have too many teeth. Hypocrisy
has its way with canines and molars,
and soon enough you’ll lose them all.

 The only teeth you’ll keep are those
whose aches are near deadly, and which
they call, with bitter irony, “wisdom.”