The Wicked Wisdom Tooth Poem by Tony Jolley

Would have sat there by the chair and cringed for you if you’d really wanted.
[Thank god you didn’t ask! ]
Better yet would have taken your place if I could…
But I’m short on wisdom as you know.

All today’s modern, mouth-sized drilling rigs
Ranged, ready to torture, in their racks and ranks,
Their high-tech, high-velocity, diamond-cut, cutting heads
Desperately champing at the bit to turn up their turbines
And bore and bite into that troublesome tooth.
Micro-thin hypodermic needles
Dying to deliver a dose of Novacaine
To ease the pain,
To lull your brain into believing
Where there’s no sense there’s no feeling.
Try telling that to your tongue when it discovers the truth:
A gaping hole more crater than cavity
Where an ivory-enamel peak used to be
And the odd clot of blood
That cuts loose and breaks free
From a wound that’s all too plain to see.

A final word of advice…. A film you should ban:
Don’t ever watch Hoffman in Marathon Man.