The confined view from
my dentist’s chair stretches
only to the hooded lamp above,
to dentists and assistant close
by on either side peering
into my mouth, prodding
poking gums teeth with
tubes tweezers prongs drills
clamps dental string tiny mirror.
A narrow tray with a long
row of delicate instruments
hovers over my chest
my teeth x-rays shine
beside the assistant.
An hour horizontal
in the dentist’s chair.
Why do I do it ?
I remember my mother’s
woes with teeth when
drills were slow, when pain
was long and strong, causing
her to switch from a
polite predinner sherry to
multiple pre-dinner gins.
I endure short term trauma
to bypass repetitious
crumbling amalgam
pain in the future.
Previously posted January 2018.
lifecameos 