THE TOOTH! THE TOOTH!

THE TOOTH! THE TOOTH!

To my certain knowledge,
I have never done anything
To that tooth.

Never bitten straight down
Onto a walnut shell,
Never forgotten to clean
The wretched thing,
Brushing on brand new toothpaste
To keep it clean and shining.
And this is the thanks I get.

A devil with a pitchfork
Prodding its pulsing perfection
Into flame and furnace.
Laughing when streaks of pain,
Volumes of agony,
Pour into this demented molar.

‘Bit sore, eh?’ smiles the Dentist,
Holding over me the longest needle
The world has ever seen.
‘A sharp sting,’’ he grins and plunges
This vicious implement straight in.

Which is when the Road Mender appears.
DuhDuhDuhDuhDuh, he drills,
And my whole body freezes,
Until I hardly dare move for fear
My face will fall to pieces

‘All done!’cries the cheerful torturer.
The pain has gone and I’m up
And out of that chair in a flurry.
In case he finds something else to do.

But I’ll tell you one thing,
I won’t forgive that tooth in a hurry.

                             ©2024 Gwen Grant.