An acciDENTAL poem inspired by recent [traumatic!] events

The Mouth Massacre
by Amy Winnington


'Twas the day of the dentist, I walked into his lair
And pretend to look calm as I climb in the chair

Willing me not to open, my mouth feels like lead
And visions of needles dance about in my head

The dentist in his mask, and I in my neck-things
He leans toward me as the stereo sings

They probably hope it will drown out the drills
More effective, I think, would be very strong pills

My eyes scan the room for some place to hide
And as the needle approaches my eyes open wide

"All you'll feel is a small pinch," I'm assured
All lies! It feels like a double-edged sword

My eyes start to water as I grip onto the chair
The dentist says "sorry," but really doesn't care

Anesthetic kicks in and the mouth feels like lead
As visions of dollar signs dance in his head

Then from the nurse there arose such a clatter
That I turn my head to see what is the matter

I see in her hand she is holding a drill
Which she passes to the dentist, it's time for *the kill*

Metal and electric, it resembles a power tool
What kind of person invented something so cruel?

"Open wide," he instructs, "open wide, wider, wider!"
I obediently listen to my health care provider

In goes the drill and as it starts to grind
I try to convince myself that fear is in the mind

I picture the concrete driller I saw down the road
And try to shake off the feelings of forbode

The dentist stuffs something else in my mouth
It wouldn't be surprising if he crammed in a house

I think I see blood and my suspicion is correct
It splatters everywhere as he bends to inspect

At last he announces, "there! We're done!"
By the tone of his voice it sounds like he's had fun

I mumble a "thank you" in numbed-mouth style
And smile a sickly, insincere smile

I've never been so happy to leave the House of Pain
Hoping against hope I need never visit it again

I walk briskly from the clinic with zeal and sprite...
"Happy oral health to all and to all a good bite!"