Monday, December 20, 2010

The Cavitron

He let fall a grunt of acknowledgment, set in dentist's chair.
Unable to escape the foul perfume of the assistant's hair.
Unable to escape the grand sense of hygiene's guilt,
and feeling that under the lights, his enamel might just melt.

A dentist is not in business of cleaning teeth and things,
but rather giving opportunities for redemptive suffering.

I went to the dentist today, guys.  It was crazy.

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