By Jerry Robbins
Here’s to dentists everywhere
And to all their helping ones
Who sit you down in their chair
Clean your teeth and check your gums
They wrap you in a lead blanket
Insert a photographic plate
“Bite down and hold,” they instruct
It doesn’t feel all that great
“Open wide and spread your mouth”
They gently look around
They push, pick, and scrape
To see what can be found
You want to talk to them
As they do what they must do
But your mouth is full of mouthful stuff
“An….oow… is.. it… ith…oooo?”
They lean you back in the chair
And ask you how you are
Their magnifiers scan the sight
Bad teeth on their radar
“Sit up and rinse, we’ll look again
There’s something near your jowl
I hate to break the news to you
You need a root canal.”
“And, you know, it looks to me
You’ll need a crown or two
Don’t worry it’s a piece of cake
One pass and we’ll be through”
They give you gas, sing lullabys
As off to sleep you go
They tug and pull at the tooth
Which seems to bigger grow
Now strapped-in and knocked-out
You cannot feel a thing
Jack hammers inside your head
That mighty tooth to spring
Then it’s over and you sit up
The fog is slow to clear away
“That wasn’t so bad,” he smiles at you
And then you hear him say,
“Next time in we’ll check your bite
You may need a big steel brace
You know, the kind with cable wires
That well precede your face.”
But you are still a little drugged
You worry not nor fret
You float in a sweet la-la land
This may be your best day yet
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