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The Dentist ©

Tom Barker
Joondalup, Australia

Wild blows the breeze in my memory,
like a fire across the heath.
As shadows fight for supremacy,
then tears blanket relief.

The seat that beckons such comfort,
and a light that pierces the soul.
Then the metal grasps one of the molars,
and struggles as it begins to troll.

Blood spatters into the drip dish,
as a four pronged fang hits the floor.
"That won't taste any more candy!"
then reaches in to pull out more.

I run my tongue round my cake 'ole,
and feel both the now bleedin' gums.
With aching holes like wee volcanoes,
and gums like pulverized plums.

But now I look like bugs Bunny,
wi' two fangs at the front gleaming white.
My grand kids thing I'm a werewolf,
and when I grin they run off in fright.

We don't sport a mirror in our house,
who wants to be reminded of time?
That sneaks along like a night robber,
painting teeth wi' gunk stains and grime.


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