Toothsayer

Toothsayer

I sit in the green chair, a paper bib clipped to my chest,
still smarting from the vicious tooth cleaning
the capable (if not sadistic) dental hygienist just gave me.
She clucked disapprovingly as she cleaned my teeth,
shaming me about not flossing,
and now the dentist is here to proclaim my doom.

"I predict," he says, smiling at me with his perfect
(and unnaturally white) smile -
"that if we don't take care of this problem soon,
in a few years all of your teeth will fall right out of your head!"
He chuckles, then blinds me with another of his smiles and a wink.

I ask "How much?"
He falters for a moment, then regains his composure -
"Is there any price too high to pay to save your teeth,
the only ones God gave you?"

I laugh, and smile back at him -
"It depends on how much it costs."

He sighs his disapproval as he picks up a sharp poking thingie
and leans me back in the chair
to torture me with his sadistic instruments.
He snaps down his goggles,
switches on the miner's light on his forehead
and digs into my gums for further examination.

"Cost," he says "is relative. Can you afford to lose your teeth?"

I predict that I won't be coming back
to this particular toothsayer of doom.

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It's SUPPOSED to be BAD!

Subject is: The Joys of Visiting The Dentist
Format is: Free verse (which means anything goes) 26 lines max