do you have an appointment

the cupcake
behind the fake oak counter
at the dental
office
beams with her smile.
you shield
your eyes from the laser
light off her teeth
as you come in.
her voice is high pitched,
helium high
and she's wearing
a bright blue button
that says, smile.
there's a pink bow in her
hair despite the fact
that might be fifty years old.
you tell her that you're
here to measure
the waiting room
for wallpaper. oh,
she says, her hand ready
to ink me in for a cleaning,
a filling, or worse.
well, she chirps, let
me get the doctor.
the doctor comes out,
takes off his thin plastic
gloves and shakes
your hand. his hand is strong.
he lets you know this.
you can't help but notice
the fresh spray of blood
on his smock
as he tells you where
the paper will start
and then end. you take notes.
it's the blood you'll remember
later, not the cupcake
behind the counter,
not the job.