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A poem about a root canal? Okay, you asked for it (and I didn’t have anything else for Poetry Friday).

Teeth!
Don’t talk to me about teeth.
I don’t want to hear about
cavities or bridges or
God forbid, root canals!

For years, my worst nightmares
have been about losing my teeth.
Not usually through some accident
that wasn’t my fault,
but through my own obsessive need
to wiggle and wiggle the teeth loose,
even though I know
(in the dream)
that’s it’s a terrible idea.

I’ve heard or thought or guessed
that these nightmares represent loss.
Maybe not death,
Probably not death,
But other significant loss —
of the perfect body
of the best friend
of the writer’s hopes.
Which makes it more devastating
that I am responsible.
I am eating the doughnuts.
I am ignoring the phone calls.
I am delaying the writing.

Teeth!
Don’t talk to me about teeth.
I don’t want to hear about
cavities or bridges or
God forbid, root canals!

Unless...

Cavities are just emptiness
That could be filled with clear water
and long walks.
Bridges can be built between friends
who have lost touch.
And root canals.
Root canals can
Dig out the poison
of hesitation, procrastination
to let the healthy hopes
grow stronger.

The King of the Creeps called to Emil and Karl. "I know that we were Counting on Grace," he said, "but it looks like that Sweet Thang has failed."

"You know I will not let you down, your highness," said Emil, "I see Your Eyes in Stars, I daily sing your praises, Over a Thousand Hills I Walk With You to the ends of the very..."

"Enough already! Your syrupy phrases are enough to make me crave The Loud Silence of Francine Green, and nothing's worse than a mime," said the king.

"A Klepto is," muttered Karl under his breath, as he watched Emil pocket a small sculpture of a Black Duck.

"I've called you here to announce to the world at large that the new Edge of the Forest issue has arrived with reviews of ten books in Twentieth Century YA Style, among other fine interviews, reviews, and articles. The Aftershocks of such marvelous works of writing will be felt far and wide," said the king. "Let everyone know that the issue is ready for the people!."

"It shall be done," said Emil, as he and Karl bowed and walked out of the room.