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
Moustache Man
Your moustache tickles me
You tickled me from the start
The enchanting, spirited glow that
dissipated sad old shadows
You were a daddy when
one was really needed…
more than a stepdad, a friend
who liked the Simpsons, too
When I think on the day I first
noticed you, I recall your smile
The kind that made others grin
when you walked in the room
Now, as the moustache is iced
with hints of vanilla grey, you
are more delicious than ever
We sing in harmony, always
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
I finally got around to writing a rhapsody for Kerry at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. And what other subject but my Lex? Also at my poetic hangout, Poets United. This pic came from the day we renewed our wedding vows, just before our 15th anniversary. He and I were both on our second marriages (thank God we’re United Church of Christ; a lot of denominations frown upon divorce, even those that lead to this type of better outcome), and he’s my “last husband.” Period.
Peace, Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 