but i can't help myself
when sitting in the dentist chair
and being
probed
by the purpled hair hygienist
with tiny surgical pitchforks
and rakes,
grinders
and spears.
i can see the tattoos of dragons
and devils
on her hands and arms
as she works on me.
your gums are bleeding she says,
in a strangely cheerful
voice.
she puts a dixie cup
under my mouth
to spit into
and says, there you go. spit.
i spit, but miss the cup
and hit her white
smock. she doesn't seem
to mind.
yes. i tell her, i know i'm bleeding,
i can taste it.
it's running down
my throat.
maybe if you'd stop
piercing my skin
with those sharp metal
instruments, my gums wouldn't be bleeding.
come on.
go easy, who are you
the Marquis De Sade
in drag?
this makes her start crying
and run out the room.
i can't work like this, she screams
leaving tubes
and drainage pipes
in my mouth.
a tiny air blower spinning around
in wild circles.
finally the dentist comes in,
and says,
what the hell is going on in here?
what did you say to Raven,
and why did you
refuse to get x-rays
this year.
oh, i don't know, beats me,
maybe
because you're billing me six
hundred dollars
for thirty-nine x-rays,
and i haven't had a cavity
since i was twelve.
i barely have 28 teeth in my mouth,
so what's with all
the x-rays?
what are doing? buying a new
yacht? you're killing
me with these prices.
i'm still wearing the sunglasses
that they give you
and lying back
in a vulnerable position
on the pleather recliner,
feet up in front
of a 32 in tv screen
with images of my teeth.
out of the corner of my eye
i see her coming towards
me with a syringe,
she's aiming for my jugular vein,
but i'm able to kick it out of
her hand.
unfortunately it stabs her in
the eye.
quickly, i take my bib off,
grab my hat and keys,
my wallet off the counter,
the free floss and toothpaste,
and head out the door.
bill me, i yell out.
next appointment is in six months,
the girl
at the desk says.
hopefully this will all
blow over by then.
No comments:
Post a Comment