the torture chamber

you feared your dentist.
dr. deklebaum.
the navy corpsman
with fat sausage fingers
delving into your
tiny mouth on a hunt
for cavities.
his clumsy way with
the needle and drill,
the silvery sharp
weapons,
your legs trembling as
his large head
with black glasses
loomed in with a gap
toothed smile, mumbling
something, about
staying still,
pulling the overhead
heat lamp closer,
grabbing your chin
to steady you as you
grimaced at the smell
of onions and garlic
that he just had
for lunch.