Oh No. Not The Dentist Again!
Like most people, I hate going to the dentist. But, more than that, I hate tooth ache, so I make myself go no matter how upset I get. Yet, despite this, my teeth never seem to have that American Film star sparkle. I’ve tried everything, and so has my poor, frustrated dentist. I have a bone disease which also affects my teeth, but we haven’t given up looking for something that will improve them. Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t disgusting or anything, and they function perfectly fine, but every time I watch an American sit-com, they pick on the English and their teeth, and it feels personal. Guess what America - the English do go to the dentist, and most have very pretty smiles! So, change your jokes, and leave our gnashers alone. If you have a fear of something, let me take the sting out of it for you by writing you a personalised poem.
Oh No. Not The
Dentist Again!
By Amanda Jay Clark.
Oh no. Is it
six months already?
I’m sure that my teeth are just fine.
All the same, I’m off to the dentist.
With terror in this heart of mine.
Who am I
kidding, of course they’ll be rotten.
He’ll be rubbing his hands with glee,
Will my lovely, (Oh God, I hope he believes that,)
Dentist who makes a fortune out of me!
I’m sure
that I paid for his last holiday.
I believe he went on a world cruise.
He dines on champagne and caviar,
While I can’t even chew what I chose!
Oh well,
better just get it over with.
Don’t want disease eating at my gum.
Or worse, to have floating dentures,
In a glass just like my old mum!
First, the
scraping and the polishing,
Then the sound of the drill in my ear.
All grinding around in my mouth,
Increasing the mounting fear.
"This
won’t hurt," he lies through his choppers.
Just relax. Good, that’s the trick.
Please open a little bit wider.
You will just feel a slight little prick."
I felt a small prick, no denying.
I grabbed his, and without further ado,
Told him, "If you promise that you won't hurt me,
Then I promise that I won’t hurt you."
I thought that
we’d made a bargain.
In a high voice he said, "It’s a deal."
But with his hands and equipment inside my mouth,
He knew I’d be unable to squeal!
So, as usual,
the needle drove into my gum,
And came out the top of my head.
With that sucky thing stuck on my lip,
He sucked out where I had bled.
He tugged, and
he heaved, and he ho’d.
"Won’t be long now," he said with a grin.
When I tried to say "Thank goodness,"
Spit dribbled all down my chin!
Several pulls
later, the tooth came out,
My face swelling like a balloon.
Can’t feel any pain at the moment,
But the anaesthetic’ll wear off soon!
Then I go
through the undignified action,
Of trying to spit with numb lips.
As I’m force-fed a river of mouthwash,
Wearing a bib to catch all the drips.
Now, he wants
to do another filling.
I’ll soon have more metal than Richard Kiel.
And then, only to a magnet,
Will I have any pulling appeal.
But at least
it’s all over now,
For the next six months at least.
I can leave driller killer behind me,
And go home and dine on a feast!
My teeth are
now shining and gleaming,
Not a stain in sight any more.
But after tea, and a few cigarettes later,
They’ll look as bad as before!
No matter how brutal I am with my toothbrush,
And the abrasive powder and paste.
I can’t keep the stains from reforming.
Brushing’s an absolute waste.
What I need,
is to have them sand blasted.
And then, gargle with bleach every night.
If I want a smile that I can be proud of,
And teeth that are glistening white.
Americans say cruel things about my teeth,
I say, "I won’t take that on the chin.
Unlike yours, my dentist works from outside of my mouth,
It’s not big enough for him to climb in!"
Oh No. Not The Dentist Again, is protected by copyright, and remains the property of the author, Amanda Jay Clark.
©