Mama Needs New Ones
Teeth trashed, vacancies galore, by years of
barely-there dental care; many are
little more than amalgam fillings
One side had no molars, no
balance in chewing my food
Migraines and TMJ the result
Still, the news hit me like a brick:
UPPER PLATE. Trash the few
remaining enamel pieces on the
sorry chess board known as
my mouth. Like the man said,
You can’t cheat breath.
In the office, equipment fences
me in, a gravelly voice says,
“Here we go” (WE?!) And me,
stranded in a loop-de-loop of
tentacled dental equipment –
over, around, inside – yikes
Everything was done in a snap
A temporary plate was shoved in
and it’s so thick it makes me
lithp, but I’ll get a final one soon.
Everyone notices I’m smiling once more…
Encore!
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Yes, it’s true. Years of second-hand smoke from playing in jazz clubs apparently didn’t help the enamel on my teeth, either. THANK YOU Philip Morris and co. But at least I can smile as widely as Julia Roberts, and somehow, I had come to miss that smile, as I tried in vain all those months to half-grin to hide the missing teeth.
This used the “baker’s dozen” words at the Sunday Whirl. Hop over and check out some great poetry from all over the world! Also in the sidebars at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and the Poetry Pantry at Poets United. Peace – and don’t forget to floss, Amy
ORAL FIXATION
Following years of extractions,
protracted dental procedures
that chanced to finance
dentists’ kids’ tuition,
here’s the fruition:
End of line for teeth like mine
Complete comeuppance
(come-out-ance?) of my
upper floor of teeth (the basement
to remain untouched beneath)
Oh, doctor, pray thee
go gentle into that good right
side; succumb that gum with enough
anesthetic to render a rhino redundant
Gas me gutless
The final result, partly insult
My smile replaced;
our savings laid waste
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
You know I will write about anything when you read this one, right? Yes, I will join the “upper denture” group this week, after years of secondhand nightclub smoke plus poor access to dental care rendered my upper rack wretched and wrecked.
For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads’ Open Link Monday and dverse’s Open Mic Tuesday. And if I’m absent over the weekend, it will be because my face looks like a cauliflower and feels like the aftermath of a prizefight! Peace, Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 