Modern Poetry | A Visit to the Dentist

Modern Poetry – A visit to the Dentist. I wrote this for a female friend who was not looking forward to a tooth extraction.   I’m not sure if she still likes me.   (No apology to Pam Ayres for borrowing her style)

Oh me toof

I love me toof
It’s sad, but true.
It has to go
And leave a gap.
The work it’s done
Chomping here.
Gnashing there
Brushed twice daily.
It came by magic
Pushing me.
First set gummy
Flashing white.
Part of me smile
Oh dentist please.
Wait a while
Time for.
To say goodbye
To its neighbors.
To me smile
Chomping no more.
Where will it go
Buried, burnt
Will it starve?
I will miss it
Will it miss me?
Oh! Dentist please
Be gentle, do not.
Bruise or cut my
Gum, nor put your.
Knee upon my chest
Just flick your wrist.
And begon rotten
Foe, your day is done.
Blood may flow
From my mouth.
No one here
To hold my hand.
To feel the
Pain I know.
My flesh pierced
By needle.
Novocaine numb
Please not my bum.
Give me gas
You silly Ass.
Morpheus ruling
My head and heart.
Waking to find
A new fluorescent.
Flashing molar
In my dream
Lighting each morsel.
That I eat
Boiled sweet.
Starlit night
Oh me toof.
I will feel so sad
When its gorn.
I’ll be so glad
Mark my knickers.
Indelible pen
Spot on my hips.
Fear of dentist man
Still, perhaps no bill.
This is a dream
Where’s me tool kit.
Find me pliers
String to doorknob.
Please slam true
Oh me poor toof.
It’s got to go
No longer friend.
But rotten foe
What if they all go?
He who I know
Will chew for me.
But will he spit
Or swallow?
Dentures designed
Like Jacobs coat.
Turning heads
With delight.
Dulux test cards
Colour bright.
Oh! It is a dream
I awake.
Brushing twice daily
It’s friend will squirm.
It’s time will come soon
Vanquished like it’s.
Pal, a hollow shell
Not of use.
Rejected and sad
Dentine bad.
Oh me toofs
Wave bye bye.
Tongue in socket
I loved you so.
Count down from
Thirty two.
When I was a
Young girl.
They flashed so
Bright they lit.
The night but
Now I am me.
I know, if she was
Here, me mam.
Under the Pillow
It would go.
Turning to coin
So bright to pay.
My bill or parking
Meter or to drill.
With hole to adorn
My neck.
Where do they go
Sold to Africa?
Whence they came
Witch Doctor rattling.
Incantation with me toofs
Oh! Me poor Chompers.
Still tomorrow night
I will speak to him.
He will say
Told you so.
Simple procedure
It will not hurt.
It bloody did
You daft man.
T’was not your toof
Me feet were on the ceiling.
Next time I see you
I will bite.
No, no malice
Unless you call me.
Gummy, then you’re dead
Like me toofs.
Miss them I will
Me molars.
Oh! Poor me
Poor old gnashers.

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