Wisdom Teeth

Laying on the leather chair,
the muzzle around my mouth
looks like a atheletic jock.
The hiss of nitrous
Dull flourscent light
The belly of my shirt rising and falling
The sweet smell of laughing gas
I feel like I’m stoned
Fingers are tingling,
dissappearing
I can see the edges
Of my eye sockets better than ever before
Like im skrinking
Inside of myself

The dental surgeon appears
In his clean white NASA get-up.
I remember the day before
when I was in his little room
he asked me
why don’t you get all four removed?
Cause my regular dentist said only two were necessary
And he turned away laughing smugly.
Now, he says nothing
Until instruments are in hand.
He’s ready to dig in.
Right side right?, he aks
Yea
Was that a joke or real question?
Good one, doc
I bet you use that one on all your patients
I chomp down on the torqoise mouth bits

My body is hallow
and I’m laying down inside of it
growing smaller,
powerlessly
watching the giant doctor
and his big curly haired nurse
go about their routine
on my body.

He applies the novacaine
like a pizza cutter
pressing into my gums.
Blood seeps down the back of my tongue
and I trap it against the roof my throat
sucking air through my nose.

My chin is numb
and cannot feel his latex hand
anchored on my plump lip.
The sharp buzz of the drill
is steaming in my ear.
Pressure on my jaw
Powdered tooth
sticks to the back of my tongue.
I think of bones and soot.
He taps into the valley of my back tooth
like demolishing a mountain
close to a neighborhood,
dangerously close to the root.
He tries to break away the sides
with a pick
lodged into the circular well
but he must not have drilled deep enough
because he’e leaning into his lever
like he’s working on a Chevy
and the whole tooth is rocking.
He quickly grabs the drill again
Is this normal?
I hear the RPM’s of the drill
peak and then slow
to a struggling moan
from the pressure of his hand.
He snatches up his lever again,
fits it into the hallow,
TNT in his fingertips,
one after another,
I hear them snap.

The doctor turns around swiftly.
With his white seamed back to me,
vanishing out the door
I hear, You’re all set.
His nurse folds me back up
in the electrical chair.
She speaks to me hurriedly like a DMV clerk
I’m just refilling my skin.
My lip is temporarily dead.
My words clumbsily drop out of my mouth
Slurred and ugly
as I ask her to explain and repeat.
She answers me impatiently
like I’m a painfully frustrating child.

I slowly drive back home
with the radio off,
slowched over,
pressing my tongue
against the bloody wad of gauze
that’s propping my mouth open slightly.
The rain drools on my windshield.
I glance up at my rear view mirror.
My lips are cracked and bloody
and I keep repeating allowed
Ha Ha Ha laughing gas
Ha Ha Ha laughing gas
as I think of the cocksucker doctor
who’s probably driving home right now too
smoking a cigarette in his vanity plate sports car
waiting for the clouds to move away
from the flourescent sun.

Charlie Treat © 2018

615.569.3514 | treatcharlie@gmail.com