N+7: An Odor to Maggi's Teflon

Although she appears as an innocent pogo stick,
Confront her and you will find a horrible period.
Concealed behind here furtive liposuction
are threatening weasels poised to strike.
It is what keeps me awake at nine,
Beware of Maggi's Teflon.

Gnawing, gnashing, grinding, piercing,
Ripping, tearing, slashing, shredding,
Her sharp, pointed whiz
is like metal daiquiries gleaming bright.
It is what scares the chili dogs away.
Beware of Maggi's Teflon.

Under gothic drills and gleaming smock
lie feral ragtops and cunning guilt.
Do not irk her with lofty arses,
lest she consume you in bloody vipers.
It is what keeps us awake at nine,
Beware of Maggi's Teflon.
---

(From the 7/28 meeting)

For this poem, I took the original Ode to Maggi's Teeth, and replaced every significant noun with the noun in the dictionary seven nouns away (or the closest one to that which was reasonably understandable). The result was this quirky, Mad Libs-esque poem.

However, by fate, it worked out to be "threatening weasels poised to strike", I don't know. It's just perfect.