The Dentist Thing Poem by Gert Strydom

The Dentist Thing



I. The evening that I bite right through a molar

The evening that I bite right through a molar
with the nerve lying open,
in a thousand years I do not want over again
and then suddenly I am without an appetite

it feels as if I am loosing my senses,
to put it mildly
while I neatly put down my eating utensils
and the next morning I go without breakfast

but that night that thing
pains and beats
and no clove oil, Syndols or R10’s help
to stop that pain
and it feels as if I can jump up and down
and I am overwhelmed with pain.


II. I cannot close a eye

I cannot close an eye
even if I do anything to lie down
or do whatever to be sleeping
and far too slowly the minutes and hours tick past.

Then I sit in front of the computer and stare
and write a poem
where the devil tells me not to spare God
and I have no humility

but I write a song of praise
a poem that I call early spring
letting my pain, my song, my life there cling to Him
where I glorify the awesomeness of His creation and salvation

and send that dark might on its way,
waiting right through the night on the morning light.


III. At daylight I find no opening at a dentist

At daylight I find no opening at a dentist,
everyone is booked full,
and I drive to and thro
and my molar is broken right through.

Even the dentistry department
of the community clinic is closed
and it’s as if everything is hampering me
and in the new town I feel miserable

when a black old lady outside the library
tells me about another dentist
and with my motorbike I break the speed limit
while that awful tooth troubles me

and when I quickly run into that dentistry rooms,
there’s a booking open.


IV. There I am taught why children hate dentists

There I am taught why children
hated dentists and are afraid of them
and wish that I were somewhere else
when he switches on the searchlight and with his knowledge

grabs needles, pliers and drills
and uses a thing that almost sucks my breath away
notching a hole into that teeth with a drill
with my mouth stretched open and my head bend back

and that teeth is impacted into the jawbone,
whereupon he brakes piece by piece out with a pair of pliers,
takes a scalpel and before I can stop him
cuts and stabs a hole into my mouth

saying very nonchalant that the rest can swear out
and my bleeding mouth aches a long while after this.

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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom

Johannesburg, South Africa
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