A Visit to the Dentist

It’s a rare find, perfection,
But by dint of taut wires,
Springs and endurance
The one surveying my
Higgledy piggledies
Possessed a Steinway
Of Hampstead Heath

My enamelled eruptions,
Ranked in a zig and a zag,
Like a weathered pub piano,
Its ivories locked in conflict,
Frozen into a lifelong truce,
More accustomed to the blues
Than her Beethoven.

The pain she endured
She can pay back
With a smile
Licensed as she is
To inflict agonies
On those that pay

Am I grateful for the relaxing music?
Or the comfortable tilted seat
Or, maybe, the permission to spit?

It’s a grisly job
Trying not to inhale
Issuing commands
To the disobedient
To floss and brush
Brush and floss

So my hat is doffed

I leave with my imperfections retained
My gaps unfilled,
A dinosaur with wonky teeth
‘Yes, Miss, I will buy a toothbrush that whirrs’
A ‘No’ might make her smile crumble
And I couldn’t bear that

The truth is,
I am grateful.
Even old Joannas
Should be tuned
And polished.
In hope of playing
A perfect tune.